


An Angel's Blessing

by iDiru



Series: How We Got Here-verse [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon alteration, Dean cries like a little bitch, Episode: s07e17 The Born-Again Identity, Gore, HAPPY FUCKING ENDING, How We Got Here, Humor, Language Kink, Leftover angst, M/M, Mpreg, OC, Pregnancy. Pregnancy Everywhere, Pregnant Sex, Sad smut, Sequel, Sex Toys, Smut, Vomiting, angsty smut, ooc, platonic sastiel, season 7
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-03 06:07:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1066983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iDiru/pseuds/iDiru
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to How We Got Here.<br/>Still mourning the loss of both his daughter and Castiel, Dean feels like he's beginning to move on...until he meets Emmanuel. They find themselves making the same mistakes, but with a whole new set of problems. With Bobby dead, and half of his archive gone, they are again left in the dark. That is, until a new friend comes along to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Enter Emmanuel

**Author's Note:**

> Note for the following chapter:  
> Dean is kind of OOC because idk why I fucked up. I tried but I also tried to make it fit with the damn story.  
> Set during The Born-Again Identity, but with a lot of things changed.  
> Things changed here:  
> Conversations are way different  
> Gay sex  
> Meg removed (not that I don't like her, I just don't think I could write her yet)  
> Dean is emo  
> Cas doesn't stay completely crazy  
> Various other shit IDK how to explain.

                Dean wasn’t sure how long it had been since his world had started spinning out of control, but the weight of it all had begun to affect him.  He thought he’d forgotten about it; thought he’d gotten over everything that had happened between him and Castiel.  How the angel had left him; as they drifted apart, and as he betrayed him, lost his mind, killed hundreds, and then died.  He was beginning to get over it; or at least, he thought he was, until the rest of it happened.  It started when Bobby, the only man he had left to call father, suddenly perished from a bullet to the brain.  Then it was his brother; how had he not seen it before?  How weak Sam’s mind was?  Even when he stated it, almost specifically to his face, Dean just pushed on…always pushing on, trying to push away all the pain, and the anguish. Trying to push past the pain, even if it meant ignoring someone else’s, but Dean didn’t realize he was doing it half the time.

                Sam was gone now; or rather, he was alive, but Dean had no idea how long it would stay that way. He’d been put into a mental institute, injured physically and mentally, and Dean was alone.  Alone with his thoughts, and his alcohol.  Alone in Rufus’s house, with nothing but the sounds of the occasional tick of the clock to occupy his mind. He was going just as crazy as Sam was.

 

                He had left Sam, trying to figure out what to do, but when night came he realized just how alone he was, when he started hitting the hard stuff.  That’s when everything came down on him, when he realized just how alone he was.  He had lost Bobby, Castiel, his daughter (twice), and he was probably going to lose Sam.  Being alone shouldn’t hurt him so much; he was a hunter, he knew the life could be hard and that things could happen, but God, he just wanted someone, but most of all he wanted his lover back.  He thought sometimes on how much he missed him, but now he was missing him so much more. If only he could see him one more time…

               

                Left alone with his drink that night, he lost his temper, broke down and cried, and woke up with a hangover that morning.  He could barely concentrate that morning as he looked for answers, but things suddenly began to change, and before he knew it, he had ended up driving to Colorado to meet a man called Emmanuel, who may be able to heal his brother.  When he had left that morning, his calm had begun to return; as calm as he could get.  His desire to have Castiel back in his life had diminished; he wasn’t drunk, and he wasn’t pining over him like before.  He could get over this…

 

                But when he arrived in Colarado, coming to the doorsteps of the man whom he believed to be Emmanuel, he was attacked.  Deceived by a demon he made quick work of, but what stood behind him almost made him faint with shock.  It seemed like a blur from then out, and he found himself suddenly in a car, driving back to Sam, with Emmanuel sitting next to him.  But this wasn’t Emmanuel…it couldn’t be.  It was Castiel, and it killed him to have him sitting next to him, because as he had learned inside before they left, Castiel truly thought he was Emmanuel.  He had no memory; knew nothing of angels, or demons, Dean, his daughter, the family he had been surrogated into…And Castiel was married.

                Dean was just getting over him.  Just realizing that he had to let go; that Castiel wasn’t coming back.  Castiel was back, but he couldn’t have him though.  The man he loved was sitting right next to him, and he was off limits because he was married and had no idea who he was.  They sat in silence for a while until Dean started to try to pry information out of him; desperate to talk to him.  Desperate to see if maybe some part of Castiel remembered him…

 

                They talked for some time, until it got to the talk of Sam, and how he’d gotten this way.

“Someone messed up his head pretty bad…” Dean said, and he could feel something creeping into his voice that he couldn’t quite identify; perhaps it was the multiple emotions swirling within his belly at the moment.

“You’re upset…I sense that it’s not just the state of your brother’s mind that is causing this…”

“I…I knew him.  He betrayed me.  Something bad happened and he kinda went off the handle after it did…just…snapped.  He did so much shit that pisses me off, I can’t even remember half of it... It’s all a big blur of anger in my head, but I do know that he fucked up his head on purpose.  Made him like this, to get me out of his way.”

“The two of you were friends?”

“Uh… no,” Dean said, sighing slightly. “We… we were lovers.” Dean began formulating a plan half way in his mind; half a plan, and half the desire to just talk to Castiel, and tell him how he really felt even if he didn’t understand.

“The weirdest of incidents brought us together as a couple… We were going to have the chance at a happy life, and that’s when something went wrong… and I don’t think he could take it.  Caused a big fuss, and then one day he was just gone… I-I just…I don’t know, if he came back…I think I could forgive him.  I think we could work this out.  I know he fucked up, and it really pisses me off what he did, but I could forgive him…”

Dean gave a glance at Castiel… Emmanuel, whatever, hoping to see some kind of change in him.  Hoping that this would help Castiel remember, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

“His name was Cas…” Dean said, putting in his last bits of hope, praying that it would help.

“Cas…That’s a strange name.”

Dean sighed, giving out a fake laugh, “Yeah… kinda is, isn’t it?”

It was another one of those moments that he just felt like crying.  The whole situation was hopeless.

 

                The drive was continued in silence, and all the while, it kept killing Dean inside.  Watching from the corner of his eye as this …this Emmanuel; this imposter, just sat there, motionless as he stared out the window.  His heart ached; it was a literal ache, spreading through his whole body, wringing his muscles until he just felt like shit.  Within moments, he realized he was probably going to cry, and he felt so stupid for it.  He was a man, damn it.  He could feel his chest tightening, and his throat clenching, his eyes burning and watery, and he could not cry in front of Castiel.

 

                But it was futile effort, as he felt the first few tears slip down his face, praying to God Castiel didn’t notice.  But it was that choked sob that pushed his way through his throat that alerted Castiel’s attention.  He felt his hand gingerly placed on his shoulder, but he dared not look over to see what he looked like.

“Dean…”

“Oh God,  Cas… I… shit, I mean…” God damn it, he’d done it.  Gone and called Castiel, well, Cas… instead of Emmanuel.  There had been a good reason Dean hadn’t been telling Castiel his secret…

“Why would you call me that?” Castiel asked, and from the side of his vision he could see a look of confusion and concern on his face.

“You just… you remind me a little bit of him and I just … I want him back, oh God I want him back…” he sobbed, gripping the steering wheel.

“If you could see him again, what would you do?”

Dean didn’t know why he was asking this, but he couldn’t stop the floodgates now, and  he told.

“I don’t know… Tell him I needed him, that I forgive him … Kiss him, if only I could kiss him one more time… ”

He turned his head, just to get a glance at what Castiel’s reaction was, utterly surprised when his lips met the angel’s.  His fingers coming to tangle lightly in Dean’s hair, pulling him forward as he kissed him.  It was not a soft peck ;it was passionate and loving.  By the time Castiel pulled away, there was a faint light in the corner of his eyes, growing brighter and brighter until the sound of a loud horn was in his ears, and he realized he had not been paying enough attention to the road.  Still slightly dazed from the kiss, Dean turned his attention back to the wheel and swerved, coming to a skidding stop on the side of the road.  His breathing was heavy, and at that moment he had forgotten about his pining for his lover, only feeling the shock and fear from nearly being in a head-on collision.

 

He calmed down after a moment, leaning against the seat as his breathing slowed to a normal pace, before he turned to look at Castiel.

“Why would you do that?” there was hope in his voice;  hoping that maybe Castiel did remember him…

“You said you reminded me of him… If he’s not here, then maybe I can give you what you want.”

Dean knew what he did was wrong, and that this was not the best course of action, but he pulled Castiel back into a kiss.  His hands on either side of his face, fingers gripping in his hair. Holding him so tightly that if he let go, it seemed like Castiel would disappear, but gently enough so that he wasn’t going to cause him any discomfort.

 

                The angel’s kisses were slow; hesitant…much a contrast to the desperate ones Dean was laying upon his lips, but he began to understand the rhythm soon.  But soon,  the rhythm faded, and Castiel was the one taking charge.  Desperate, needy kisses being laid upon his lips; Castiel wanted him… He wasn’t sure if it was memory, or the fact that he may be aroused, but Dean couldn’t complain.

 

                It happened so fast, but Castiel had climbed over the seat and situated himself on Dean’s lap, making this whole situation a lot easier.  Dean couldn’t help but touch him now.  One hand gripping the short, dark hairs on his head, and the other roaming his body.  Castiel shifted, grinding his hips along Deans’ groin, and thrusting his crotch against Dean’s abdomen.  Dean couldn’t help but break the kiss, letting out a soft moan.  He did it again, and Dean could see why, now; Castiel was aroused.  His cock was jamming right into his abdomen, and he was attempting to get some kind of friction.

               

                The erection Dean has begun sporting had started to grow from the way Castiel was grinding against him, and it almost hurt to be going through this.  The reasons for doing this seemed to be different.  Castiel was desperate; needy…he wanted sex, and that’s all he wanted.  Dean, on the other hand, just wanted Castiel, and he was willing to give it to him just so he could be close.  With all of Castiel’s constant movement though, he couldn’t help but begin to be taken over by lust.  He rolled his hips against him, grinding his cock into that oh-so-familiar and missed ass of his.

 

                Castiel pulled his lips away from Dean’s, his breathing laborious, and Dean felt the gust of hot air fanning against his face again, and as it was before he noted that it had no scent. It reminded him of their first time…

“Dean…I need you.”

Dean looked through the darkness, gazing into his lust-filled eyes as his mind tried to be coherent, before he spoke.

“Your…your wife?” Dean asked, and he wanted to smack himself after he’d asked this, but he felt he should.  He needed to make sure Castiel didn’t feel guilty or bad about this.

“I…I don’t care much for her, honestly. We’re only married because I felt it was the right thing to do. Please, Dean. I promise you, I’ll regret nothing.”

To drive his point home, Castiel pushed his hips forward, grinding against Dean’s cock as his own pushed into his abdomen again. Dean couldn’t help but hiss in pleasure, feeling his lust beginning to cloud everything else.

 

                Dean pulled the angel back into a kiss; it was his sort of go ahead, and his presence there was short, though passionate. Castiel pulled away, readying himself. His hands quickly went to his belt, undoing it as he pushed down his pants and underwear, exposing himself to Dean. Even in the dim light he could see the fluids of arousal beading at the opening. He wasted no time unzipping Dean’s pants, his hands fumbling as he pulled his cock from his confines. The hunter let out a muffled moan, his hips thrusting up on their own accord as he was touched.

 

                It was a very messy, unprepared for process, but Castiel didn’t seem to care. He slicked Dean’s cock with his own saliva before, even unprepared, he sunk down on it. He let out a shaking breath as he did so, forcing Dean inside of him, and Dean could barely take it. Fuck, he was so damn tight… He could barely breathe, feeling his cock so incredibly constricted. It was a combination of pain and pleasure, both of which were overwhelming.

“Fuck, don’t move…Please, don’t move.” Dean said, as Castiel had hilted him. He felt that if he moved, with his member so tightly constricted, he wouldn’t be able to last long. Dean really didn’t understand how this could feel  good, but it did.

               

                The angel obeyed his wishes, until his body relaxed and became accustomed to the girth within him.  He had understood Dean’s wish; why he was to remain still, but he now knew to move, which he began to do slowly. Castiel rose and fell upon him, as Dean’s hips pistoned to meet his movements, moving in tandem with him with what rhythm they could create.

 

                Castiel’s breath was heavy in his ear, and Dean’s hands were heavy upon his body, as they wandered again. Gripping at what he could, desiring to feel skin beneath his fingers. Running up his shirt, along his sides, his back, his hips… Dean found that part of his neck was exposed, and he took his chance to fasten his lips to the skin. Kissing softy before his teeth grazed at the skin lightly, which in turn turned to nibbling and biting.  

 

                He could feel as Castiel moaned, the sound vibrating through his throat, and he could feel his pulse beating quickly in his jugular vein. Castiel was losing himself, his cries becoming louder and more frequent as he lost rhythm, and Dean was doing the same. Both of them were close, even if they hadn’t started too long ago. Neither of them had been touched in so long, most likely. By the time he felt Castiel tighten around him, his breath shaking and pleasured in his ear, and the feeling of hot liquid splattering against his shirt, Dean was already gone. It took a mere one, hard thrust before he was spilling out into him.  He felt himself bite down, hard on the angel’s neck, but he seemed not to notice.

 

                They sat like that for a while, trying to recuperate, with the angel slumped against him and he himself slumped against the seat. He dislodged once he had calmed, pulled up his pants, and shifted himself back into the seat beside Dean.

“I…I feel as though I need to apologize. That was very unprofessional.”

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle slightly, even if it was a sad once.

\---

The night drew on, and Dean realized they needed to stop. It was too late, and there was no sense driving forever when he was tired, and they weren’t close. He stopped briefly at a gas station, his jacket pulled closed, and headed inside to clean his shirt, before he stopped into a motel.  He found that there was one bed, but he realized Castiel didn’t sleep…or did he? Dean was proven wrong when Castiel did indeed ‘sleep’, although it wasn’t’ exactly sleeping. He described it as not needing sleep, but finding it was routine now, as he knew sleep was normal, and he was indeed a normal human being. Or so he thought…He couldn’t quite understand why he didn’t need sleep though, while everyone else did.

 

                It wasn’t something Dean wanted to explain to Castiel right now, or ever. Dean was mildly terrified. If he told Castiel who he was, he could become unstable again and just leave. Then he would be without Castiel, and his brother. It was a hard choice, but if he had to choose at least one of them, he would choose Sam. Sam was family, and as much as it hurt him to let Castiel go, he couldn’t let his flesh and blood die. Sam was literally the only piece of his family that was left, not to mention they’d grown up together, and he’d practically raised him.

 

                Nevertheless, the two of them ended up sharing a bed together. Dean tried not to get too close to Castiel, but he found that even though he was an angel, Castiel still did weird shit in his sleep. Dean was lying awake, attempting to sleep, when he felt the presence of arms coming to wrap around his middle, bringing them up so that hands so delicately placed themselves upon his pectorals. Dean let out a shuttering breath, his own hand coming to grip softly at one of Castiel’s, as he pushed himself further into his grasp. Maybe it was a good thing the two of them had only one bed.

 

\---

 

                The next morning, Dean awoke to find the angel still sleeping, and it was his intention to wake him and tell them they needed to get going, but as he rolled over he found that Castiel was actually awake. Quickly, he backed away, looking as though he’d been caught.

“I’m sorry…” he said, sitting up. “I shouldn’t have done that. I woke up like that and I should have just …”

“It’s fine…” Dean said, sitting up as well and standing from the bed. He watched as Castiel continued to sit, seemingly in thought.

“Dean…I don’t understand but…I feel a sort of closeness to you. I enjoy being around you for some reason.”

Dean gave a soft, but saddened laugh. Oh God, this was tearing him apart. If Castiel didn’t remember on his own, he would still have to let him go…and he wasn’t making it easy. He felt that if he did remember on his own, the trauma would be lessened. If Dean had to explain it to him, he didn’t know what might happen…

“Could I…kiss you again?” Castiel asked, and Dean felt his heart skip a beat. It hurt, but he wasn’t quite sure he could say no…

So, they did kiss, and it ended them up in the same place as last time. Castiel was more desperate than anyone he’d ever seen. The slightest of touches could send him into a frenzy, and it landed them in bed, naked, with Dean regretting everything again.

“Emanuel…this has got to stop. You’ve got to go back to your wife…”

“Would it be so hard for me, to stay with you?”

 

                Dean wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that. He wanted him so badly…This was Castiel, but at the same time it wasn’t, and if he couldn’t have Castiel, he didn’t know what would happen. He couldn’t keep lying to himself…To Castiel. Dean was hoping he would remember, gradually, before he had to leave. But if Castiel were to stay, and figure out the truth after Sam had been fixed, the backlash might have been worse…

“I…I don’t know if that’s the right thing to do. You’re married…and I’m still not quite over Cas.”

He didn’t quite understand if it was some sort of weird destiny that was drawing Castiel to him so closely, or if Castiel remembered, but…he just couldn’t.

 

\---

               

                It was late at night when they finally arrived at the hospital, all set to enter the hospital and fix Sam, but there was a problem almost immediately, as they exited the car. It was Castiel who noticed the demons out front, stealthily guarding the entrance, posing as workers. He alerted Dean of this, who quickly became perplexed on the situation. It seemed hopeless, but a plan formed in his head as Castiel questioned him.

“That blade of yours…how many do you have?”

“One…just one, but…maybe you could get rid of them?”

“And how do you suggest I do that? I may be a healer, but I’m only human…”

The hunter thought long and hard, trying to concoct a lie that would get Castiel to dispose of the demons without explicitly telling him he was an angel.

“I don’t know. If you can heal people, maybe you can hurt them…If healing comes natural to you, then maybe so will killing?”

Castiel seemed nervous at first, but as he watched the demons in the distance, plans began to formulate in his mind. “It’s dangerous…but perhaps you’re right.”

Letting out a soft huff of air, Castiel stepped forward, then looked back at Dean, “I’m going to trust your intuition… I’m going to pray it doesn’t get me killed.”

 

                Dean couldn’t help but feel worried as he watched Castiel make his way to the demons. He didn’t quite know what he was worried about; he knew he couldn’t be killed by such simple demons, but he still felt nervous. But as he watched, Castiel apparently did know what he was doing. He did very well, and found that the ability to destroy a demon came naturally. But something was changing in him, as Dean watched; he was becoming more…confident, but differently so. It was like he was becoming someone else; changing from Emanuel to…himself?

 

                The battle was over almost as soon as it begun, and Castiel looked winded and slightly pained. Dean wasn’t sure what to say; had he truly remembered, as Dean suspected, or was he just tired from using his powers, after not having used them for so long?

“Emanuel..? Are you okay?”

“Don’t…” Castiel said, turning to look at him, his expression somewhat stoic, though somehow saddened. “Don’t call me that…I remember you, now. I remember everything…I’m so sorry, Dean. I ruined everything…”

“Cas, no…” Dean said, heading close to him. “I mean, I was kind of pissed at you, but it’s okay.”

“No, I shouldn’t be here. I’m the whole reason Sam’s like this. I’ve destroyed everything…Sam, Heaven…Everything I try to do, I ruin…Saving Sam would probably go wrong, too. I should leave.” Castiel said, pushing past him and heading off, quicker than Dean had anticipated. He was at the car before Dean finally caught up with him.

“Cas, damn it! Listen to me!” Dean said, grabbing hold of his shoulder and forcing him to face him, “You fucked up, and I can’t even deny it and say you didn’t. But I forgive you, and I’m sure Sam will forgive you.”

“That isn’t enough, Dean! It’s my constant failure…I’ll just fail at this. I failed to end the war, I failed you, failed as God…failed our…” Castiel swallowed, looking away briefly, “Our daughter…”

“No, Cas. Listen to me…You can fix this, and then we can go from there, okay? Please, I…I need you, and I need Sam.”

“Why didn’t you tell me to begin with, Dean?”

“Because this is what I was afraid of, but in a much worse scale. Sam is dying in there, and you’re probably the only thing left that can save him…I know you think you screwed up, but you walked out of that river for a reason, Cas. And maybe this is it.”

 

                Dean was about to speak again, but he suddenly stopped, opening the trunk of his car. He pulled from the trunk a familiar article of clothing; his trademark trench coat. “Here…I kept this…hoping you’d come back some day and I’d be able to give it back to you. So listen to this one thing, Cas, if you won’t listen to anything else I have to say. I had faith…faith that you’d come back, and I have faith in you now. You can do this…”

\---

 

                It seemed that Dean had convinced him, and after saving Sam from a demon trying to fry his brain, he ended up back in his room with the two of them. Castiel was watching him with despair; he was so broken…

“There isn’t much I can do, Dean…”

“What do you mean not much you can do? I thought you could heal people?”

“Yes but…this is different. His mind is so damaged…I may be able to shift his mental state, but it would be at my risk…I’m willing to sacrifice myself to fix him. I did this, after all.”

 

                Dean felt himself dipping into despair again. He had just gotten Castiel back, however unstable he may be, and he was about to sacrifice himself for Sam. There had been a light at the end of that dark tunnel, just for a brief moment, and now it was fading away from him again. He was forced with the same choice; Castiel, or Sam, and he just couldn’t abandon Sam...

 

                He wasn’t even able to protest before Castiel was heading over to Sam’s bed, who seemed absolutely terrified as he approached. It was there he witnessed a most bizarre sight. Castiel seemed to be healing Sam, but not in the manner that he was most accustomed to. It seemed that Castiel was literally pulling the insanity straight from Sam’s mind, and into his own.

 

                It seemed to pull Sam back to reality, as he gasped and realized where he was, again. Before, it seemed Sam didn’t even know any of them were there, but now he recognized both Dean and Castiel. However, their so-called joyous reunion was cut short, as they realized it was Castiel who was effected now.

 

                The night wore on, as Castiel broke. His mind had cracked, and he was clearly out of it. The both of them did all they could to help him through it. Dean holding onto him when he became hysterical, as Castiel clutched onto him for dear life; painfully, even. But eventually, he lost consciousness. He awoke that morning, the two of them having fallen asleep, but awoken by his stirring. He had healed a considerable amount, but there was still something off. His mind was still fragile, and Dean couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason. It had been before this, but perhaps the additional stress from healing Sam had made it worse.

 

                Amazed that they had not been disturbed that night, the three of them left, and began their way to Rufus’s, which was when Dean realized that Castiel knew nothing of what had happened since he’d vanished. Dean took the time while they rode to speak to him, asking Sam to drive as he sat in the back with him for moral support.  He explained the situation to him; the Leviathans, Bobby’s death, the house…

               

                Castiel took it well, considering, but Dean had a fear that it was because his mind was still adjusting to the shock of everything that had happened. He could possibly become more upset later, but he would have to wait and see. Dean wasn’t quite sure where they were heading, but he really hoped it would be somewhere decent for a change…


	2. Trust

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again this alters the canon timeline. Some things have been changed about S07. I wasn't going to write about it, so I just got it over with....  
> Also I've changed some aspects of Rufus's cabin but not too drastically.  
> This chapter is SMUT. But it does have an important plot point.  
> WARNING: THERE IS A NSFW ILLUSTRATION AT THE BOTTOM OF THE CHAPTER.  
> Now that I have your attention there, the sex scene in the following chapter I felt...might be a bit of a strange position, so I illustrated it to explain wtf I was talking about without confusing everyone. SO THERE IS PORN AT THE BOTTOM OF THIS CHAPTER. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.

                The Leviathan deal was a fiasco, but it was taken care of. It had taken them a few weeks, with the help of a few allies. One of the most unexpected allies was Meg, who departed soon after, to who knows where. Castiel had been of some help, but he had decided he was against conflict, somewhere along the lines of their battle, so it was difficult. They met new friends; including a boy named Kevin Tran, who helped them to read a stone tablet they’d recovered from the Leviathans, which ultimately led to their demise. In the end, they parted ways, and Sam, Castiel, and Dean were staying at Rufus’s cabin, enjoying peace and quiet for a while. For the time being, it was calm. They knew they still had enemies, but they were enjoying rest while they could.

 

                Now that they were done though, it was almost even more exhausting. Castiel was like a damn…sex shark, or something. He explained to Dean that, even as Emmanuel, he had a subconscious memory of Dean’s touch. Now, as himself, the memory was stronger, and it was something he desired strongly. Dean, of course, took precaution when fooling around. There were massive amounts of condoms bought, at which time Dean realized something. As he was shopping, he felt a cold chill of panic run up his spine, and a weight settle in his stomach; he’d gone bareback with Emmanuel twice…If Castiel remembered that, he certainly wasn’t saying anything. But he was certainly adamant about not getting inseminated again.

 

                Castiel still slept occasionally, because it was something he found pleasurable, and he usually did so with Dean. On that morning, on a morning like any other, something changed. As they lay in bed, still sleeping, their bodies naked and warmed from the sun, they both began to stir. It was Dean who awoke second, mere minutes after Castiel.  Vaguely registering his surroundings when he realized there was a firmness pushed against his back.

“Well, good morning to you, too…”

He felt the angel breathe heavily into his neck, and he enjoyed the sensation of hot air fanning against his skin, and he felt one hand come to rest upon his hip, while the other ran along his back. Dean groaned lightly, giving a soft yawn afterwards.

“You think I’m takin’ care of that right now, you’re out of your mind, Cas.”

Castiel let out a soft, displeased whimper as he nuzzled into the crook of Dean’s neck, before he spoke. “Please?”

“Dude, I just woke up. Come on…I don’t really feel like getting up right now.”

“Then let me do the work…” Castiel said, his hand slipping lower until his fingers were playing at the area between Dean’s thigh and pubic area.

“It’s never just you doing the work. I always have to do… _something_.”

“It’s not _this_ that I want…” he said, letting his hand drift downwards so his fingers could drift briefly against Dean’s member.  He felt Castiel’s hand begin to slide down his back, further and further as he spoke, “It’s _this_.” At this point, he felt his hand slide along his ass, his fingers sliding into the cleft until they were pushed against his entrance. He tensed up, taking in a sharp breath as he shifted, attempting to pull away.

“Hey! Warn a guy, Cas!” Dean said, rolling over to face him. “What makes you think I’m okay with that?”

“Isn’t that a bit hypocritical? You never really asked me…”

“Well, you kind of made it obvious…”

“Have you never been intimate in this way…?”

“I don’t want to talk about that….”

Castiel ran his hand along Dean’s side soothingly, from his hip to his ribs. “It’s okay, Dean. I won’t if you don’t want to,” the angel said, leaning his head into Dean’s shoulder. “But I can promise you, it feels good. Very good. Can’t you tell?”

“I can tell…” Dean said, his own hand coming to rest upon the angel’s slightly protruding hip.

 

                Dean thought on it for a few moments, thinking he probably owed it to him. He knew he could just say no, and that Castiel wouldn’t push it, but he was right. He was being hypocritical...It was always the same thing; Castiel had given himself to Dean, but he’d yet to give himself to Castiel… Dean groaned in frustration, rolled over, and began rifling through the drawer next to the bed. He brought himself back to face Castiel, now with a bottle of lubricant firmly clutched in his hand.

“Be careful…” Dean said, handing him the bottle. “You’ve watched me do this enough times, haven’t you? You know what to do, right?”

“I’d gather that I do. I’m not going to hurt you...not on purpose, anyway. If anything hurts, you can tell me and I’ll stop.”

“You’d better…”

 

                With that retort, Dean repositioned his free leg so that it was resting above Castiel’s hip, pulled up so that he was exposing himself just enough for the angel without really having to move. With Dean now repositioned, although awkwardly, Castiel managed to maneuver himself so that he could squeeze the slick gel-like substance onto his fingers. Carefully, he moved his hand down between his legs, searching out his opening again and pushing his fingers against it gently. Dean hissed at the sensation, from both the coldness and the nervousness.

 

                Castiel really seemed to want to take care of him, though, and make this a pleasant experience for the both of them. His other, slightly more trapped hand came to wrap around Dean’s slightly erect cock, running his fist along his shaft in an attempt to work him up.  Dean was still nervous though, and despite Castiel’s best efforts, he still remained tense.

“Dean…please relax. I promise I won’t hurt you. Why are you so scared of me?”

“I’m not scared of you, Cas…it’s more of a natural reaction. I’m trying…”

He did eventually clear his mind enough for him to loosen up slightly, and he felt Castiel ever so gently begin to enter him, to which he forced himself to relax, but once he had sheathed his finger a good portion of the way, his body immediately began fighting him. Eventually, he loosened enough for Castiel to move, which he did, exploring his body as he did so.

 

                Pushing its way through the nervousness in his mind were the little jolts of pleasure coming from Castiel’s ministrations, but they weren’t all that special. They felt…alright, but Dean had a feeling it was his block that was causing him to not fully enjoy everything. This changed when he suddenly felt an intense shockwave hit his body, causing him to practically melt against the angel as he let out an audible cry. Castiel glanced up at him, making sure he was alright, but it was probably quite obvious why he’d made that noise.

 

                Experimentally, Castiel pushed at the spot, rubbing hard against it, sending overwhelming sensations of pleasure rocketing through his body. He felt like he could practically melt into the bed right there, it made him feel so weak, and he could not suppress the pleasured moan that pushed forth from his vocal chords. Just the pressure to that area alone completed his arousal, and he was fully hard, almost painfully. Castiel finally let go at this point, and he missed his touch, but Dean assumed he had a reason. With this heightened state of arousal, Dean was relaxed enough now to allow Castiel to enter a second finger. He tensed around him briefly, as he began inserting it, but relaxed quickly as Castiel pushed against the spot again.

 

                It wasn’t long before he was sufficiently prepared, by both of their standards, and Castiel withdrew his fingers, coating his own member with the lubricant.

“You are ready, right?”

Dean’s response was to haul his leg up using his arm, so that Castiel would have sufficient room.

“Now I am.”

 

                Grabbing hold of his own cock, Castiel steadied himself, guiding his member with his hips and hand towards Dean’s opening, lining up carefully before he slowly began to push inside. There was very much protest from Dean’s lower muscles, causing the process to become more drawn out. Castiel was slow and careful, and though it still hurt, Dean was grateful at how kind the angel was being to him. As horny as Castiel was, he really seemed to care about Dean’s comfort in the matter.

 

                After Castiel had sheathed himself within Dean, they just sat there for a moment, with Dean’s head leaned against Castiel’s .

“Does it hurt?” Castiel asked suddenly, and Dean felt the rumble of his voice vibrating from his chest.

“Kind of…I’ve had worse.”

After a moment or two, when the muscles around Castiel’s member finally relaxed enough for movement, he brought a free hand to Dean’s face. Cupping his cheek as he placed a gentle kiss upon him, before slowly deepening it. His other hand came to rest beneath Dean’s side, wrapping around so that his hand was upon his back as he pulled him close. With Dean concentrating on said kiss, Castiel took this time to finally move, very gently shifting out and back in, slowly. Dean would still tense around him every so often, his muscles still defensive against such a foreign object, but he was still doing his best to relax.

 

                In a desire to be close, and to feel comfort, Dean held fast to the angel as much as he could. He brought his arm beneath Castiel’s upper half, wrapping it around so that it was gripping lightly at his shoulder, while his free arm wound round to rest against his back.

               

                By the time the rhythm had gotten more constant, Dean was finally beginning to feel just what seemed to drive Castiel wild all the time. The feeling of all those sensitive nerve endings reacting, firing off jolts of pleasure into his body as the angel moved within him. He broke from the kiss as his head tilted back slightly, a choked mewl spilling from him. Castiel didn’t bother to regain the kiss now, he merely rested his head near his.

 

                Castiel shifted purposefully, knowing that if he moved, he could perhaps find the spot that caused so much pleasure. It took a moment, but it’s location became obvious at Dean’s sudden reaction. He’d found that spot again, hitting it just right and making him cry out almost mournfully it felt so good. The hunter pushed his hips against Castiel’s cock then, practically begging for more with his silent pleas and motions, and he gave to him selflessly.  All the pain he’d been feeling had dissipated, replaced by those intense shock waves of pleasure. This was a place he had never been touched, or even thought of doing on his own. It was all so foreign to him, and almost overwhelming.

 

                It was getting all to overwhelming, and he felt his limbs going weak. He found he could no longer keep holding his leg as he was, so he moved it back to the position it had been; resting over Castiel’s side. It increased the tightness in the area, and evidently surprised and pleased Castiel, as he gave out a choked moan from the shift in position. Not only was it pleasing to Castiel, but to Dean as well. It increased the friction, made everything so pushed together so that it was scraping against all those nerves just right. He felt Castiel’s free arm shift down, his hands running along his back until it came to rest on his ass, gripping it lightly as he stopped there.

 

                Dean wasn’t quite sure how long he would last, with the way things were going. Castiel wasn’t going entirely fast, or hard, but it was just enough that it was driving him crazy. He was almost ashamed of the noises he was making; so desperate and needy. It was rivaled by Castiel’s, who’s head had drifted against Dean’s neck, his breath hot and fanning against his skin as he moaned. Choked cries, mewls, and muffled breaths of pleasure interrupted Dean’s own cries. He had to think, this was new to Castiel as well. He had never topped before…

 

                His next course of action though was strange and unexpected, as he let out a strained gasp, and he spoke. He spoke in words Dean didn’t understand; muffled and mumbled, but Dean could tell they weren’t English. Dean didn’t understand why, but he liked it, and he wanted to hear it again, but the only words he could utter were, “More.”

Castiel stalled momentarily, just enough for Dean to become coherent enough to say what he meant.

“More?” Castiel asked, his breath heavy and panting.

“Speak to me like that again….What was that?”

“My native tongue…Enochian. It was an accident.”

“Keep going…” Dean said, pushing his hips against the angel’s, “Keep talking to me…”

 

                Not one to deny Dean, Castiel did as he was told. He thrust his hips again, gently, but still in the right angle, as he spoke. It was words Dean didn’t understand, but he found it incredibly erotic. It was almost reminiscent of their first time, in a strange way, but not. It was his speech that made him realize just what he had; an angel. Creature of God, speaking to him in the language of angels as he fucked him. A once pure creature, taken and made impure by the taint of sex; but what a good tainting it was…

 

                The angel’s lust and need for sex seemed to suddenly take over, and his thrusts became rougher and a bit more chaotic, and his speech changed to deep, growling words. It was vaguely painful, but Dean wasn’t quite too concerned with that, as he as hitting his prostate fairly hard. The noises he made were almost inhuman, intercepted with whines and sharp cries, as he spoke the angel’s name in the same lines of curses.

 

                Each hit was sending him closer, until he was on the very edge of orgasm, hanging by a thin thread as his body tensed and his lungs worked feverously. That thread seemed to hold for some time, leaving him there on the edge of near madness, before it snapped and his release came. Like a floodgate, all the tension released and he came, splattering the fluids against Castiel’s stomach. The contracting of his lower muscles was so much more noticeable when he was so filled.

 

                It wasn’t long before he felt the angel’s cry against him, strained and pleased as he, too, released. It was a strange sensation, but he knew the exact moment that Castiel had reached orgasm. There was the feeling of hot liquid spilling into his body, and the light pulse of the angel’s cock as he did so.

 

                They lay there for several minutes, recuperating as their breathing calmed. Lying in the wake of everything that was sex; semen, sweat, and laborious breathing. But even with all this, none of them dared move. When they calmed, Castiel shifted himself, so that Dean was no longer filled by him. A strange, longing sensation began building within him as Castiel moved, feeling as though he had lost something, but it was probably best that he moved.

“I have a question…”

“Which is?”

“Even without being a celestial being I could tell you were uncomfortable at first, but not just from being nervous of your first time. What happened?”

“Hell happened, and that’s as far as I’ll go on the matter right now.”

 

                Their time was silent, and Dean was nearly falling asleep, when a sudden sharp pain jerked him from his partial slumber. He cursed, pulling himself away from the angel who was somewhat taken aback by his sudden movement. He immediately sat up, swinging his legs over the bed and bending over slightly.

“What is it?” Castiel asked, bringing himself into a sitting position as well.

“Fuck…I don’t know, my stomach hurts….”

Without another word, leaving Castiel slightly worried, Dean stood, quickly rifled through the drawer and put on a pair of pants before heading towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“Bathroom…hopefully I’ll be right back.”

 

                But Dean didn’t come right back, and Castiel was getting worried. After several minutes, he dressed and made his way to the bathroom. The door was closed, and the light was filtering through the cracks in the door, so Castiel assumed he was still in there.

“Are you okay in there?” Castiel said, bringing himself close to the door.

“Cas…I might need your help. Can you come in here?”

Slightly confused, Castiel slowly pushed the door open, wedged himself in, and then closed it behind him. There was Dean, sitting half pantsless on the toilet; a sight Castiel never really expected he’d see in his life time, but there it was. 

“You’re having a problem…? If it’s bowel related, I don’t think I can-.”

“No…I mean, that’s what I thought I was coming in here to do but I think I have a bigger problem. You might need to heal me, or something, because…I’m bleeding, here.” Dean said, his voice slightly strained, sounding like he was in pain.

“Did you tear?”

“No, that’s the problem…well, actually I’m pretty sure I did, but I don’t think that’s where it’s coming from.”

“Well, if I could see what you’re talking about, maybe we can figure out what I need to try to heal.”

Dean groaned, leaning back slightly against the toilet before he braced himself to push himself off.

“There…” he said, gesturing towards the bowl, “That’s my problem.”

Castiel was a little hesitant to look, but he did, feeling slightly taken aback. This was no mere tearing…The water was red with blood, with some of it streaked down the sides, staining the porcelain bright red.

“That is clearly not from a tear.” He said, wincing as his hand drifted towards his abdomen. “And my stomach is killing me…Feels like someone’s using my intestines as party streamers. I was worried at first, but…I feel fine, other than the pain, and the bleeding. I’d like it fixed, though.”

Castiel stepped forward, his fingers wrapping around the hand Dean had against his abdomen, pushing away before gently laying it upon his skin. “Here?”

“Yes, there.”

 

                The angel seemed to concentrate, his hand pushed into Dean’s abdomen as he attempted to heal him. Though for some reason, he looked bothered, as though he was in pain. His hand remained there for a few moments before there was a sudden burst; a bright flash of light, followed by the sounds of what seemed like electrocution. It surprised the both of them, and Castiel pulled his hand away, hissing in pain and wincing. For a moment, Dean caught a look at the flesh there; it was singed. What had happened? Now he was beginning to worry.

 

“What the hell just happened?”

“I can’t heal you…I’m sorry.” Castiel said, his voice full of confusion and regret.

“What…? Is this serious?”

“It doesn’t appear serious, but the fact still stands that I can’t heal this.”

“I don’t understand…why? You can heal everything else.”

Castiel didn’t respond, merely thought. He looked concerned and confused; not a look that was new to the angel.

“Your affliction seems to be of a divine nature. It’s possible for me to heal the injuries caused by angels, but…it’s not working, here. I think it’s because I may have done this.”

“ _You_? _You_ did this?! Cas, what the hell?!”

“I didn’t do it on purpose! I have no idea how this could have happened, but somehow I’ve…done something to you. Whatever it is, it’s effecting your insides…I’m assuming the reason trying to heal it backfired on me was because it was me who did it, in the first place, though I’m not sure. There could be a deeper meaning…It doesn’t seem serious, though. Despite the bleeding, and the pain, as you said…you seem healthy. You may just have to wait this out.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do, then? Sit in here until I stop bleeding, whenever that will be?”

“No…” Castiel said, heading past him to grab a towel on the towel rack. “You stay in bed, and you lay on this.”

“That’s a white towel…”

“White towels are all we have.”

 

\---

 

                Castiel had convinced Dean to lay down, with a towel resting beneath him. He had stripped down again and laid on his side, placing the towel beneath him as he covered his lower half. In an attempt to be kind and soothing, Castiel settled in behind him, running his hands soothingly along his abdomen. They lay like this for some time, with Castiel resting his head against Dean’s bare back, and his fingers gently massaging his skin. They were interrupted as a familiar face suddenly walked in the door, without knocking…

“I made some breakfast-aw, gross, am I interrupting something?”

“No, Sam…” Dean groaned, looking up at him with irritation, “But you could have knocked. I’m in pain, and Cas is helping me…and I probably won’t be getting out of bed because I’ll make a mess or something.”

“Make a mess…?” Sam asked, cocking a brow.

“T.M.I as it might be, I’m bleeding like a stuffed pig down here…”

“From…?”

“Does it need to be spelled out? My ass, Jesus. Cas says it’s not serious so I’m staying right here…”

“That’s…that’s really weird. You’re not…on your period or anything, are you? I mean, I know you’re a dude and all but weirder shit has happened.”

“The hell, Sam?! No, I’m not on my period!”

“I assure you he isn’t menstruating…” Castiel said, raising himself to look at Sam briefly, “It was me who caused this.”

“I don’t…I don’t’ want to know how…I’ll just leave you two…” Sam said, turning to leave, but stopping as he reached the door. “As much as I’m uncomfortable being in the room with the two of you right now, especially with _you_ naked…I can bring you something up, if you really want.”

“It’s fine. I’m not hungry anyway…”

“Can’t say I didn’t offer, then…” Sam said, before turning and shutting the door.

God damn, what a weird family they were…

 

_**A/N:** _

 

_**Arr below be porn of the previously mentioned sex scene** _

_**  
**_This should probably be included in 'notes' but I don't know how.

  
Before you look at said porn, please let me explain something first. This sex does work. His dick is in his butt even though it doesn't quite look like it. IT IS IN THERE. I PUT IT THERE. You just can't see it.

FURTHERMORE, it's a bit of a hit and miss with these models. They either look okay, or they don't look okay. Personally, this is one of the times I don't think they look okay but whatever, the purpose of this illustration was to show what position they were in. SO BELOW IS THE PORN. P.S I'm really bad at sex faces.

 


	3. The Watcher

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any unintentional OOCing in this chapter.

                Dean’s intestinal fiasco had all but been forgotten as the days went on. It still made him nervous, wondering just what Castiel had done to him, but he wasn’t dying… Since he had his health, Dean was currently heading off to the store. He was mildly worried; Castiel was off, that morning. Something about him seemed…mentally unstable. He seemed upset about something, but wouldn’t tell Dean what it was. He knew Castiel’s mind wasn’t %100 okay, so whatever was upsetting him could’ve been damn well anything. With this in mind, he told Sam to keep an eye on him, hoping it wasn’t anything serious.

 

                So, Sam did keep an eye on him, to an extent. The risk of Castiel committing any kind of suicide was a low one, so he wasn’t watching him like a hawk. Merely coming to find him wherever he may be, asking if he was alright. At current, he was in the bedroom doing God knows what. Or that’s what Sam thought. He was just heading to the bathroom, when the startling sound of a wheezing gasp caught his ear. It seemed to be coming from the bathroom, and he knew he and Castiel were the only ones there. What was wrong with him…?

 

                Worriedly, Sam pushed open the door, and his heart sank by what he found. It wasn’t anything lethal or life threatening, but he watched as Castiel sat there, hunched over and struggling to breathe as he hovered above the toilet. Not moments after he’d entered did he watch him jerk forward and let out a spew of projectile bile. Sam immediately dropped to his own knees, in an attempt to soothe the angel, rubbing his back lightly. Castiel couldn’t seem to breathe, though; he was hyperventilating, and Sam assumed the reason he had been wheezing was because he had sucked vomit into his lungs.

“Hey, c’mon Cas, you’ve done this before. You know how to do this.”

Castiel couldn’t respond; he had barely a second to let in a rattling, wheezing breath before the next wave came, causing his entire body to jerk forward violently. The moment it stopped, Castiel attempted to breathe again, but it failed. He seemed to be done vomiting for the moment, but he was in complete hysterics. He seemed to be both crying and having a panic attack.

 

                Sam did the best he could, trying to get him to calm down, rubbing his hand along his back, but it didn’t seem to do much. Sam remembered having panic attacks when he was young, waking up from nightmares and finding Dean to be his only comfort. He would physically restrain Sam, pulling him into a hug and just holding him until he calmed down, and so he used this knowledge on Castiel. It was a dangerous move, but he pulled Castiel into his grasp, so that he was leaned awkwardly against his chest. He fought him briefly, but Sam remembered doing the same, and remembered ultimately that this was what worked for him. Gently, he stroked him, running his hand from his shoulder to his lower back.

“Cas…it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay. Just breathe.” Sam said, trying to be as soothing as possible. “It’s just a little vomit; you can handle that, right? Of course you can. That’s all it is, you’re alright…”

“That’s not all it is, and you know it!” Castiel suddenly said, very defensively.

 

 Sam was surprised he was able to even speak. Sam was surprised by a lot of things…He’d never seen Castiel this emotional, and he never thought he would. But he knew Castiel’s mind had been damaged with the death of his daughter, and it had been damaged even further when he’d healed him. It was Sam’s assumption that this may have something to do with his mental breakdown.

“I can’t go through that again…The emotional trauma it caused ruined everything. I hurt you, I hurt Dean, I hurt …everyone. It will just happen again; I’ll hurt you again, and I’ll have to watch another child die. I can’t…”

“No, look…Everything’s fixed, okay? We had a bit of a rough patch, but it’s fixed now. We’re all okay. Everything’s okay…What do you think you can do? You say you can’t do this, but what will you do?”

“Remove it…”

“No, please…Don’t do that. Listen, it’s just gonna make it worse, Cas. It’s your body and all, and you can if you want, but hear me out. You wanted that baby, right?”

“Of course I did.”

“Okay, and so did Dean. But listen…as much as it might hurt you, and scare you, it still has a chance. Removing it now just because you’re afraid it might not turn out right is killing something that might have a chance. Do you understand? I know you would’ve realized this sooner or later, and I just think it would have made things worse. Then there’s Dean. Do you know how upset he’d be, if he found out the two of you had another chance, and you threw it away?”

Castiel didn’t respond, merely let out a soft sob as he burrowed his face into Sam’s chest. He had since calmed, from the initial breakdown, but he was of course not yet completely stable. Briefly, he felt Castiel’s arm’s wrap around his waist, before he attempted to pull away. He was slow and sluggish for a moment, seeming as though his reactions were slightly slowed.

 

                Sam wasn’t quite sure what was going on, feeling a little bit reluctant to release him, but perhaps that would be his downfall.  In his attempt to move, Castiel made a complete mess of him. Of course, the angel had known, but Sam had not, that he was about to be sick again. His sudden sluggishness had not gotten him in the correct line of fire, though, and a projectile, near explosion of bile ended up on both Sam’s shirt and jeans. In his shock, he let go, where Castiel attempted to finish in the right place.

 

                How did this keep happening? Sam had a brief thought that if Castiel was ever sick, no one would get out unscathed. He was, once again, covered in vomit. It was wet, sticky, and hot as it soaked through his clothes and if the acidic spell didn’t burn his nose enough before, it certainly was now.

“I am so sorry…” he managed to say, his breathing heavy as he tried to recover from yet another wave.

“It’s…it’s fine, really.” Sam said, standing, feeling mildly disgusted as the dampness shifted against his clothes. “I need to go change.”

 

\---

 

                After changing out of his disgustingly damp clothes, Sam headed back into the bathroom, finding Castiel in the same spot. After cleaning up what didn’t hit him, he turned his attention back to Castiel. He frowned in concern, looking about the room as he formulated a plan. Without speaking, he picked up the trash can that sat near the toilet.

“You really need to get into bed, Cas. You look like hell…”

Castiel scoffed, straining to rise from the floor. Seeing this, Sam helped to hoist him up, and the two of them made their way to the bedroom. Once he was close enough, Castiel crawled into bed while Sam placed the trash can next to the bed. Sighing, Sam moved to the end of the bed and sat down, watching over him for a few moments in case he needed anything.

“Did you know?” Sam asked suddenly, causing the angel to look over at him in confusion.

“Know what?”

“Dean told me you were upset. He told me to keep an eye on you. Did you know…?”

“…I had a feeling. I felt ill this morning, and I recall what happened last time. I also tried teleporting earlier; it didn’t work. I would have come right back…”

 

                Their conversation died down, and they talked about nothing much of importance until Castiel drifted off to sleep. Sam took this chance to leave, heading into the front room. As luck would have it, Dean entered just as Sam set foot on the floor.

Dean gave him a brief greeting before going to set the bags aside, stopping as he noticed the look on his brother’s face. It was a look of worry and nervousness.

“Sam…? What happened? Is Cas okay?”

“He’s…he’s fine. Just upset…really upset…and pregnant.”

“What…?” Dean said, feeling his heart skip a beat, and a strange sense of dread building in his belly. After setting the bags down on the couch, he turned back to Sam. “Seriously?”

“Yeah…pretty sure. Everything’s the same as it was last time.”

“How do you know this? Did he tell you?”

“No…not exactly. I went to go to the bathroom and I found him there, choking on bile and throwing up…So, he had a panic attack, I calmed him down, he threw up on me, and now he’s in bed…I’m really worried about him, Dean. His mind isn’t…right. I had to talk him out of self-aborting. He’s really worried and upset about the whole thing. How did this even happen? Haven’t you learned?”

“We have been using protection, but when he was Emmanuel we kind of…slipped up.”

“Seriously, Dean?! Why would you do that? He wasn’t even Cas!”

“You don’t know what I was going through, Sam! I was completely alone! I thought I was getting over losing him but he came back and I just…we kissed, and one thing lead to another. But it was his fault, both times!”

“ _His_ fault? _Twice_?”

“I don’t know what’s going on with him lately, but he’s like a damn sex freak! He was so damn desperate as Emmanuel and…and it was supposed to be innocent, at first! But he just kept fucking taking things further and further, and I couldn’t say no…I wanted him, and I wanted him to remember, on his own, so that things would go the way they were supposed to. I was dropping hints and everything, and one thing just lead to another, and another…He didn’t even know he was Cas, but he still wanted me…”

“You’re right…I can’t say I know exactly what was going through your mind, but you’ve gotten yourself in trouble, and you need to go in there and make things right! Go talk to him, he’s kind of an emotional wreck right now. He needs you…”

“Can you put these up for me, then?” Dean asked, exasperation in his tone.

Sam nodded, and before he could say anything more, Dean headed hastily towards his room.

 

                When Dean arrived, he found Castiel as he had been; asleep. Quietly, he removed his shoes and crawled into bed with him. He had many things to say to Castiel, but at the same time he didn’t want to wake him. He found it to be the next best thing to craw in bed with him, lying behind him and draping his hand over his hip, his fingers stroking the fabric lightly in small circles. After a moment of doing so, he felt the light brush of fingertips along the back of his hand before it turned into grasping. Castiel took hold of his hand, gently moving it away from his hip and upward, so that it rested against his abdomen. Dean barely suppressed the gasp as he felt the sudden change there; a barely noticeable bulge, but it was there.

“If you want this…I will keep it.”

“Of course I want it…”

“Then I will keep it, but I can’t promise you this will turn out well.”

“It’s okay…we can try. I don’t look forward to something bad happening, but we can still try. I can’t lose another one, Cas…not when we have a chance, here and now.”

“Sam told me you might say that…Doesn’t it scare you?”

“It does. But fear is fear. You can’t let it control you.”

 

                As they lay there, Dean was finding that something was not right. He watched as the shadows danced upon them, as the leaves outside blew in the breeze, but he caught something strange in them. They didn’t look quite right…Quickly, he rolled around to face the window. He couldn’t swear by it, but he thought he saw something there. A quick flash of something humanoid, gone within a second. Was something watching them?

 

                Protective instinct taking over, Dean leapt from the bed and began slipping on his shoes as quickly as he could, as he called for Sam.

Sam didn’t have time to reply before Dean was telling him to watch Castiel, before he was heading out the door. He hadn’t even bothered to tie his shoes, which he prayed would not be his downfall. He was just more concerned with getting out that door. With much stealth, and with a mild panic in his chest, he headed out the door. His muscles were tense, ready to grab whatever weapon he may need concealed within his jacket.

 

                All his sneaking was proving nothing; he was not finding a thing, but just as he was heading past the tree outside their window, there was a distinct noise of fluttering wings. Nothing like a bird’s; they were large, and the sound was incredibly familiar. The sound set a new burst of panic into his chest; were they after Castiel? Did they know? He quickly ran inside, checking every nook and cranny before he made his way back to the bedroom, where he found both Castiel and Sam looking bewildered.

“The hell was that about?”

“Somethin’s out there…” Dean said, glancing around the room to double check nothing dangerous was present. “Pretty sure it’s a damn angel. What the hell is it doing here?”

“I fear that my brethren may be unhappy about this news…” Castiel said, sitting up. “Nephilim are an abomination in their eyes. They can and will find out about the conception of any of them. I’m not quite sure why they didn’t come last time…”

“Great, so…they wanna kill us now?”

“Not you, just me.”

“Great…” Dean said, irritation clear in his tone. “The hell are we supposed to do now? Set up angel wards?”

“No…you can’t. In able for this child to develop, I need to have as much strength as I can. The sigils may impede development, and we would just have the same problem as last time.”

“Why is it that you didn’t say anything when we warded the barn?” Dean asked, feeling regret low in his gut. Briefly, he wondered if it was their fault that his daughter had been born the way she was.

“Because warding wouldn’t have mattered at that point. Development was not an issue…”

“Wait…” Sam said, suddenly piping up. “If the angel wanted you dead, Cas, wouldn’t they have tried by now? I’m no angel expert, but in the past, they haven’t seemed very stealthy about murder.”

“You have a point. Perhaps they’re just curious…”

“Since when are they just _curious_? This bastard’s gotta have a motive.” Dean interjected, his voice again raised.

“Whatever it is, it doesn’t seem they want to harm either of us.” Castiel responded, in an attempt to calm things down.

“How are none of you worried about this? We get a second chance, and some winged asshole is gonna come down here and fuck it all up!”

“Dean, calm down…” Sam said, looking between the two of them and gauging their reactions. “I’m worried, and I’m sure Castiel is worried, but what he’s saying makes sense.”

“We both know angels are dicks, though. No offense, Cas.”

“Despite that…Cas, do you think you’re capable of defending yourself? Of waking up if someone tries to kill you?”

“I may be weakened, but I’m still capable of stabbing someone. I have my blade.”

“See? It’s fine, Dean…And honestly, whoever or whatever’s out there…probably doesn’t give a damn about killing Cas. We’ve seen how angels act, why would they suddenly change their attack now?”

Dean groaned, still feeling small waves of panic constricting in his chest, as he moved to sit on the bed.

“I’m not letting my guard down...regardless of what the both of you say.”

“Good, that makes sense. Keep on your toes.”

 

\---

 

                The fiasco seemed to die down a bit as the day went on, though Dean refused to leave Castiel’s side for the time being. He was once again forced to watch his lover be violently ill several times in an hour, and it hurt him, but he knew it was something they could do nothing about. He did what he could to comfort him, but it seemed that sickness wasn’t the only thing bothering him. Castiel was very…down. Dean could tell that it hurt him, emotionally, to be pregnant again, but he hoped this would wear off. Each time he looked at Castiel, though, he felt pangs of guilt. He could very well let Castiel do what he wanted; to, as Sam put it, self-abort, but he just couldn’t. He couldn’t watch Castiel kill the child; his child, that might have a chance. But in doing so; in his own, semi-selfish ways, he was putting Castiel through grief.  He just prayed he was making the right decision.


	4. Devine Dilemmas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's some unrealistic things here, but I did my best and researched as much as I could to get this shit to work. So give me a break man. Also, there is some gore.   
> also it's kinda short sorry

“You sure you don’t want me to go?” was what started the conversation before he left.

“No, why would I? It’s my turn, isn’t it? You just watch after Cas.”

“Because, no offense…you kind of look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks Sam. Like you look any better.”

“I mean you look _sick_. You know what I meant.”

Dean had scoffed, waving him off. “I’m fine. I’ll be right back. Just running to the store, right? Not like I’m going on a hunt or something.”

 

                He should have listened to Sam… His trip was hell. He spent the entire shopping trip feeling fairly ill, but it all got worse on the way home. Some miles close to home, his stomach began to churn uncontrollably, causing an extreme nausea to build within him. It was just nausea…He was fine, he could make it home just fine. Sick? He didn’t get sick. He just had a bit of a bug; that was all. Just felt kind of shitty… He was fine. He’d be over this so quickly. But it continued to get worse, to the point where Dean involuntarily found himself putting his hand over his mouth. Having it there made him feel a bit more secure; especially since he was on a stretch of road where he was unable to pull over.

 

                His hope for not being sick was soon dashed, as his stomach gave a strong lurch, and he felt his mouth start to water. Oh fuck, he was sick. No, god damn it this was not the time or the place. He couldn’t pull over! He was finding it hard to drive with such distraction and one hand. His stomach was still twisting and lurching uncomfortably, and then it happened… It contracted strongly, sending a wave of digestive fluids straight into his hand. It slipped through his fingers and dripped down his arm, chin, and neck, down onto his shirt. He was absolutely disgusted with himself, but even so he attempted to keep his hand there. He thought he was done for a second, but his stomach contracted once again, sending the disgusting fluids upwards into his hand.

 

                It came to the point where all of this lurching he was doing was causing his driving to become unstable, and he realized that if he didn’t use two hands, he was going to run straight into the river. Tentatively, he removed his hand, gripping the steering wheel with his slick palm. He tried to take deep breaths; tried to calm himself, stop the vomiting, but it didn’t work. Now, unrestrained by his hand, when yet another wave came, it was a lot messier. Luckily, it was not projectile, but as his stomach heaved once again he found it spelled from his mouth, dripping down his shirt and onto his pants. When he saw the chance to pull off, he took it, skidding rather dangerously onto the side of the road as he quickly pushed the door open, barely making it before it came again.

 

                So there he was, leaning out of the damn care, vomiting and covered in vomit; his own, this time. He should have listened; he wouldn’t be in this mess… It was a while before it stopped; far too long for his liking, before he pulled back into the car. Shit, he needed to clean up. Luckily there was a gas station on the way home; he’d go in their bathroom and get cleaned up.

 

                It felt like it took forever to get there; each passing moment, he felt sicker and sicker. When he arrived, he parked hastily and rushed in, unable to clean himself off because the nausea had gotten so strong. He went straight for the toilet, falling in front of it and vomiting out his internal organs, it seemed like. This time, it was projectile, and it was disgusting. The whole situation was just making Dean even sicker. There was the sound it made as it hit the water and the overwhelming, acrid smell of digestive fluids and half digested …whatever he’d eaten, which wasn’t much, thank God.

 

                He managed to clean himself off after he’d stopped, just barely, but the moment he did, he was back in front of the toilet again. This continued on for some time. He would stop and start, and it was making him very exhausted. He was losing so many fluids… After about 20 minutes of nearly constant vomiting, Dean realized he could not drive like this. He was just too sick. He needed help…

 

                With the time he had, he pulled the cellphone from his pocket, quickly dialing Sam’s number, but not bothering to move from that spot. He continued to sit there on his knees, leaning against a toilet that probably hadn’t been cleaned in a while. It took Sam far too long to answer, but finally, he did.

“Dean? What’s going on?”

“I know this is going to sound really ridiculous but…I need you to come get me.”

“Uh…why?”

“Because I can’t drive. I’ m too damn sick to drive…Just call a cab or something and come get me.”

“What about Cas?”

Shit, Cas…

“Ah, fuck…bring him with you?”

“He’s sleeping right now…He’s been feeling sick all morning apparently and I don’t really want to wake him. He’s probably fine on his own for just a few minutes, right?”

Dean had to think on this, battling with himself internally before he finally came to a decision. “Yeah…shit, just…hurry, alright?”

\---

 

                Dean had told Sam where he was, and that he would be staying in the bathroom until he got there. When Sam arrived, he was to ask for, or buy, several paper sacks from inside and then meet him in the men’s bathroom.  Dean didn’t move; he stayed in front of that toilet, still sicker than he could imagine. There was suddenly a knock at the door, followed by his brothers voice asking if he could come in. Dean reached over and unlocked the door, his hands shaking as he did so. The taller male entered, carrying a large paper sack, presumably filled with other paper sacks. In hindsight, a bag probably would have been better, but he’d been here before and he knew that they only carried the sacks, which was very strange and bad business.

“Jesus Christ man, what the hell happened to you?”

“I don’t know. Shit you were right, I should’ve just stayed at home…”

“Yeah, you should have. Come on then…” Sam said, helping him up and leading him out to the car. Dean leaned against him as they walked, hoping he wouldn’t vomit on him. His hopes of not vomiting were in vain, though, as he quickly leaned away from him and vomited profusely onto the gravel.  Sam was mildly disgusted by this, but still kept a hold of him so that he wouldn’t fall. He seemed very weak…

 

                When they got into the car, Sam shoved the bag of bags into Dean’s arms, which he took two of, double bagged, and laid the rest aside.

“When we get home, we should probably get some fluids in you…How long have you been throwing up?”

“Not too long but it’s _constant_.  God, I feel like shit.”

The time it took to get home took far too long, and had far too much vomiting, but the two of them finally got home and they headed inside. Dean went first, not wanting to rely on Sam too much, while Sam gathered up all the disgustingness and threw it in the outside trash can, before heading back to get the rest of the things from the store.

 

                Dean probably shouldn’t have gone first, though. What met him inside was highly unexpected. The moment he entered the door, he was attacked. There was the sharp cut of a blade, going through the top layer of skin on his arm and ripping it open, leaving a gash in both his clothes and his flesh. There before him stood a very determined, very frightened looking Castiel.

“Fuck, Cas, what the hell?!”

“Who are you?!” he shouted, still brandishing his blade.

“What?! You know who I am!”

Castiel didn’t respond, only lashed at him again with his blade. Against his better jugement, Dean pushed him back against the wall and held him there, grabbing the blade and throwing it down so that it clattered against the floor loudly.

“Cas! Calm down, it’s me!”

Castiel tried to fight him off, and it was evident he’d lost some of his strength because Dean was able to subdue him.

“C’mon baby, I don’t want to hurt you. Just calm down!”

Sam suddenly entered, stopping dead in his tracks at what was going on.

“Dean, what the hell?!”

“He attacked me, Sam!” Dean retorted.

“Both of you just calm down! Cas, chill out! Dean, let go of him!”

Castiel finally calmed down, looking to Sam hopefully before he looked back to Dean.

“I’m so sorry…”

 

                Dean finally calmed a bit, loosening his grip until he let the angel go.

“Shit, I didn’t hurt you, did I? Are you okay?”

“I’m fine…”

“Cas…why did you attack him?” Sam piped up.

“Something has changed in him since he left. I thought perhaps it was an enemy, coming to get me. I was trying to defend myself…”

“Changed?” Dean asked, stepping back.

“I thought you were an angel, having taken…your body and come to trick me.”

“Why the hell would you think that?!”

“You’re exuding a strong angelic aura. It’s non-specific, so I couldn’t quite tell who it was…”

“Look, I’m not an angel, Cas. They glow, right? When you hit them with blades? I didn’t, did I?”

“No…no you didn’t. I’m sorry. Fear must have taken over …I didn’t realize.”

“Wait…” Sam said, heading past them and setting the bags down. “Angelic aura?”

“Yes. I don’t quite understand it myself.”

“You remember that time Cas apparently…did something to you, Dean? I don’t really want to go into the details but what if …shit.” Sam stood there for a moment, thinking. “What if angels have some weird bonding shit? What if he turned you into an angel or something?”

“That’s stupid…” Dean responded, turning back to Castiel, who spoke.

“That I know of, there is no bonding ritual between humans and angels, during coitus, to turn one into an angel. I don’t believe it’s possible _at all_.”

“Then why is he _exuding_ angelic auras?”

“ _Aura_ , not _auras_ …and I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

“Shit…” Dean said, suddenly feeling very faint. All of this commotion must have made things worse. He slowly headed over to the couch, feeling unsteady on his feet as he did so. With no hesitation he quickly fell upon it, hard.

 

                Castiel made his way over to him, sitting down next to him and looking him over. “Did I hurt you…?”

“He’s very sick, apparently.” Sam said, heading over to the two of them. “That’s why I went to go pick him up.”

“I could try to heal him…”

“Do you think you could? I don’t think anyone knows what the problem is.”  

“A hell of a lot of puking.” Dean said.

Without speaking, Castiel laid his hand upon Dean’s stomach, and his attempt to heal him seemed to go in vain. The moment he began trying to heal him, there was a spark; a flash of light before he pulled his hand away quickly.

“I’m sorry, I can’t…I don’t know why, but whatever is doing this to you, it’s not letting me heal you, and it appears to be angelic…”

“So…maybe you are turning into some kind of angel, and it’s not agreeing with you?”

“I’m _not_ turning into an angel, Sam! It’s just some kinda…flu, or something.”

“I’m not so sure about that…” Castiel said. “But I couldn’t begin to imagine what could be wrong.”

Sam didn’t respond, simply wandered into the kitchen to come back with a bottle of water. “Drink this. Fluids, remember?”

 

                Dean gave a scoff, and turning his gaze from Sam and taking the water bottle from him before sipping some. He had a good a run; a good while where he wasn’t sick, but all of the water in his stomach was apparently not agreeing with him, and he was forced to rush off to the bathroom to vomit up what was mostly water. He knew he had to keep on with these fluids, though, even if he didn’t want to. Sam was right, as much as he hated to admit it; this was important. The both of them watched as he left, concern etched on their features.

\---

                The next few days were much of the same; only, worse. There was the constant vomiting from Dean, and occasionally from Castiel which left them fighting for the toilet sometimes. They still hadn’t figured out what was wrong with Dean, and it didn’t seem to be going away.  Castiel regularly apologized to him, feeling as though it was his fault somehow or another. Dean wasn’t going to tell him it wasn’t, but he felt badly that Castiel felt so terrible all the time. Even if he did do it, Dean couldn’t outright tell him he did do it and tell him he was terrible for it.

 

                Even if Dean liked to pretend he was fine, he wasn’t. Both Castiel and Sam knew it, and even Dean did deep inside. After so many days of not keeping hardly anything down, Dean was becoming notably dehydrated and malnourished, not to mention getting a terrible throat ache. The two of them feared that if Dean didn’t recover, this may kill him. It hurt Castiel terribly, because he could quite possibly be the cause of Dean’s death if it did happen.

 

                One day, Sam had had enough. He headed into their room, gently opening the door and heading over to Dean, who was half comatose at the moment. He was awake, but he was functioning poorly. All he could do lately was lay in bed. He felt so weak…

“Dean…come on. I can’t do this anymore. We gotta go to the E.R.”

“What the hell are they gonna do? If this is supernatural, they won’t be able to do shit. Did you find anything in the archive about this yet?”

“You know most of it’s gone…I haven’t found anything, and I doubt even if it wasn’t burned, there would still be little to nothing about this. Do you know how hard it was to find out about what was happening to Castiel?”

“Still, what are they going to do?”

“Well obviously you can’t keep anything down normally, so they may have to intervene in other ways. There’s got to be some way to get _some_ fluids and nourishment into you. If you keep going like this, it’s going to kill you, and I think you know that.”

Dean groaned, staring off into space for a few moments before responding. “I’m worried that they’ll run tests, and they’ll figure something ain’t right here, and I’ll be some damn…biblical icon, or something, because I’m filled with some kind of angel grace from _whatever_ the hell Castiel’s done to me.”  Dean said, glancing back to make sure Castiel was asleep and not listening to him. “Which, by the way, makes me doubt the whole angel thing even more because I feel like complete shit, and I don’t think angels should feel like this. So it’s something else. I dunno what, but it ain’t getting better, and I’ll admit that.”

“Then _come on_. You’re going to _kill yourself_ , Dean!”

“Fine! Fuck, should I wake him up?” Dean said, pointing his thumb towards the sleeping angel behind him. “I’m still worried about leaving him here alone.”

“I think he’s fine…We’re two humans and a pregnant, powerless angel. I think if angels wanted in here to get Cas, they’dve done it already, right?”

“Probably…Still worries me though.”

“He’ll be fine. Come on.” Sam said, moving to help Dean out of bed. He was a bet unkempt at the moment, not having the energy to bathe that day, but the people at the E.R probably wouldn’t mind. He was sure they’d dealt with the homeless before, who were way worse off than he was.

 

                The drive to the hospital as a long one, with him face first in another bag the whole time, which didn’t seem to cease even after they’d gotten there. Difficultly, Sam helped him inside; supporting him, mainly, because Dean was a bit too weak to walk on his own. He could, but it wasn’t a good idea. Hours later when they arrived in a room, finally, the discussion began. Sam was allowed back, since he was family. They did a simple examination on him, which turned out to not be so simple when they examined his throat and triggered his now very sensitive gag reflex, and he narrowly avoided vomiting on the doctor but it did get the floor. However, examining his throat did prove useful, though the results were something neither of them really wanted to hear.

“Surgery?!” Dean had shouted the best he could with the pain in his throat, when the idea was given.

“Yes. We will need to admit you. You _are_ very malnourished and dehydrated, and the likely method would be to put fluids into you, medically, usually with a feeding tube. But I’m afraid your throat is too damaged. Putting a tube in will damage it further, possibly resulting in something irreparable, or lethal. The other problem is, in this state your gag reflex seems too sensitive. Attempting to put a tube in your throat will probably trigger it. Not to mention, excess vomiting will dislodge the tube. The best bet would be to put a plug directly into your stomach. Unfortunately, the surgery would be more invasive than usual, as we can’t risk putting the scope down your throat, which means the endotracheal tube will be out of the question, and we’ll have to go with the laryngeal mask airway…

The plug can be removed; it is usually left there, as we use it frequently in patients that need long term feeding, but in your case the plug may only be temporary. You will require another surgery to remove the plug, but the risk for this, even though it’s not the usual way, are low.”

“It’s the only way?”

“It’s the best way. I would highly recommend it, and because of the damaged state of your throat, we wouldn’t be able to put the feeding tube in here, due to malpractice reasons, and you would have to find someone that would.”

“Will I really die without this?”

“I generally dislike scaring patients, but the chance of death without getting nourishment into you is high. It’s your choice to walk out of here and forgo the surgery, but I wouldn’t recommend it.”

\---

 

                So, that’s how he ended up in surgery, half asleep already just a few seconds after they’d put the mask on him. With that, he was out like a light, and he was plunged into pure darkness. There was literally nothing. He had no conscious; he dreamed no dreams. He just existed, and he wasn’t even aware of his own existence. But something brought him back; something made him realize he was alive, and he awoke. A sharp gasp filled his lungs, breathing in the air from the oxygen mask, and he was awake. He vaguely recalled something strange; a shock running through his entire body. Not a shock, more like power; power he didn’t understand.

 

                It wasn’t long before he realized he felt terrible pain in his stomach, and as any person would do, he examined himself. Out of panic, he pulled the mask off and sat up, feeling a sharp pain in his belly as he did so. His eyes were a bit blearily, but he managed to see clearly the sheer amount of red. There were massive amounts of blood, and he realized now that he was not _out_ of surgery. His breathing picked up; panicked as he realized he was staring straight into his own exposed abdominal cavity. He was seeing things that he never knew he had. Just masses of organs that he couldn’t straight off hand identify. He felt like he could pass out. He’d been hurt before, but never bad enough to where he could look at his own insides so well.

 

                He was alone; alone with this massive, bleeding gash in his stomach. There were no doctors. They were all gone. Where the hell were they; how could they just leave him like this?! He glanced around the room, searching, maybe hoping one of them had not noticed and was off somewhere, but what he found was something more devastating. There were doctors…but they were dead. All of them, dead. But the manner in which they had been killed was even more frightening. Their eyes had been burnt from their skulls, and their sockets bled profusely. Instinct kicked in; he’d have to do this himself, no matter how damn bad it hurt. He looked around; looking for instruments, and not understanding half of them. He finally found stitching equipment, and took them to his own belly, pushing the needle through and groaning loudly in pain as it touched the exposed insides. But before he could even make his first stitch, something unexpected happened. The wound began closing; on it’s own. He watched in utter confusion as it began to close, slowly but surely.

 

                Within a few moments he was left sitting there, staring at a spot that was covered in blood but not wounded at all. His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden sound. The fluttering of large wings, and it spoke in a voice he did not recognize.

“Dean Winchester, we need to talk.”


	5. Attendant of God

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Massive Dean whump at end and a new character  
> ALSO CHARACTER ART AT THE END OF THIS CHAPTER

“Who the hell are you, and what happened to all these people?!” Dean asked, looking for an escape if he needed one. He barely had the chance to look him over, but he could tell that he was no normal angel. There was something very different about him; namely his appearance.

Dark skinned, but evidently Caucasian, blue eyed with somewhat shaggy, medium length chestnut hair, a sleeveless white button up, and a necklace hanging at his neck with a charm resembling something of a Celtic cross. His legs were dressed with loose fitting blue jeans, somewhat covering the black boots at his feet. There was a beaded bracelet gracing his wrist, and a strange tattoo on his bicep. He was fairly attractive; boyish, yet feminine.  No, this didn’t look like any normal angel…

 

“A friend,” the angel responded, crossing his arms and looking Dean over. “Don’t worry, you’re not in any danger. From _me._ ”

“Who the hell are you, then, and what do you want? Did you kill these people?”

“My name is Valtiel, and no, I did not. You did…sort of.”

“ _I_ killed them? I was asleep!”

“I can’t explain this to you right now. We need to get out of here…”

There was a sudden bright flash of light, before both the angel and the bodies were gone. He returned some moments later, holding Dean’s discarded clothes. “Put these on.”

Dean crawled off the table, grabbing the clothes from him and commanding him to turn, then put them on as Valtiel turned away.

When he dressed, he spoke to the foreign angel again. “How do I know I can trust you?”

“I suppose you don’t, but you should. You may be in danger…Come on, we have to go.”

Valtiel grabbed him by the arm, and before he could react, he was standing in the living room of his temporary home. “Son of a bitch, now my insides’r going to be all screwed up!” Dean shouted, highly annoyed that Valtiel hadn’t bothered to ask.

 

                It wasn’t long that Sam was entering, having heard the commotion. “What the hell is going on in here? Dean, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be in surgery?!”

“Yes, I was _supposed_ to but…something went wrong.”

“Are you okay…? And who is he?” Sam asked, defensiveness clear in his tone.

“My name is Valtiel, and I’m here to help. Dean is more or less fine.” The angel said, nodding towards Dean. “But there was an incident…Dean, I need to explain something to you. Please sit down. You look like you’re about to faint…” Valtiel said softly. Dean did indeed feel very faint, and so he sat down heavily on the couch. Sam joined him, sitting next to him as Valtiel moved to stand in front of them.

“You might not want to hear this, Sam. You are free to leave if you want.”

“I’d like to know what’s going on.”

“Right, well…first off, Dean, you’ll need to explain what I’m about to explain to you, to Castiel. It is important that he trust me, but trying to engage him directly without your trust first is going to prove catastrophic, due to his…mental state.”

“How do you know about his mental state…?” Dean asked, his toned laced with suspicion.

“I’ve been watching the both of you. Do you remember the day you found out about his pregnancy? It was me, watching the two of you through that window. I apologize for setting all of you on edge after that, but I didn’t feel it was safe for me to come around yet. In truth, I didn’t plan to expose myself to any of you at all, but then…this happened, and I felt it was best to help in a more hands on approach. Which leads me to what I was trying to say…”

Valtiel headed over to the nearby chair, finding that it was probably better when all of them were sitting.

“The reason you healed yourself is because of what Castiel has, erm…gifted you with.”

“So was I right about the angel thing?” Sam asked.

“Uh, come again?” Valtiel asked.

“Sam thought maybe Castiel bonded with me in some weird way, making me some kind of angel…”

“That would be incorrect, no. You are not becoming an angel.”

“You owe me five bucks, Sammy.” Dean said, elbowing him in the arm. Sam groaned lightly, “Why were we even betting on this?”

“Forget about the bets, this is important.” Valtiel interjected. “I’m not quite sure how to start, here. I really _need_ you to listen to me.  Everything I have to say. Do you understand?”

“Yes?” Dean said, a tone of questioning in his voice.

“There’s something about Castiel that you don’t quite know about; not even he knows about it. Unknown to most, there was a plan in Heaven that was, more or less, scrapped. It was an experiment. There are a few angels who are endowed with special gifts that most of us do not have. Castiel is one of them, but the plan was changed before he was ever told.

At some point in history, God sought to unite both angels and humans; to create a new race between the two of us. That race was the nephilim. Castiel was created to create nephilim, but the plan changed. Things went poorly in their creation, and it was decided that they should not exist. Castiel became a warrior, rather than …what he was supposed to be; a breeder. Castiel is known as a breeder. He was literally _created_ to breed. But, his breeding was unneeded, and it was decided he wouldn’t be told what he was created to do.

No one planned for him to rebel and start breeding with humans, creating more nephilim….When God left, angels began rebelling. Taking things into their own hands and generally making a mess. They began to dislike the humans, and began to hate nephilim even more. The reason for the banning of nephilim in the first place was because it was a process they could not perfect, and many failures resulted in the plan being changed. However, it was the angels, now out of the presence of God, who became angry at the mixing of human and angel blood.”

“Can you tell me what this has to do with me killing people, though?” Dean interrupted.

“I am _getting_ to it. In due time, Dean. Hold your tongue. Nephilim usually go unnoticed, but you two are causing trouble…I’ve been watching over you, making sure the two of you are safe. After that stunt in the hospital, you may be on their list, now.”

“What does this have to do with me…?” Dean asked nervously.

“It means the _both_ of you are pregnant.”

“What?! Are you shitting me?”

“Does this look like the face of one who would _shit_?”

“…As odd as that statement was, no…fuck. But it makes sense; oh God, does it make sense…”

Sam had his face in his hand, shaking his head lightly, “Dean, how do you keep doing this?!”

“Shut up! How the hell did this happen?! Cas makes sense; he’s an angel, but I’m not! I’m a damn human!”

“It has to do with his breeder status… He can impregnate _anything_. Any human; male or female.”

“And that works how?”

“Do you remember the time after coitus that you experienced pain and bleeding? That was the beginning of conception. With breeder angels, the body automatically senses if you’re male or female, or if you’ve been seeded before. Within the semen is a sperm filled seed. It grows inside of you, taking cells and pieces of your own tissue to form something able to sustain life; more or less, a uterus. The pain you felt was your organs being rearranged and the tissue within you being torn apart to make a new organ. It used the DNA from your own tissue and blood, and melded with the sperm from the seed to create life.”

“That’s…that’s fucking weird. Oh _God_. No, I can’t do this…What am I going to do about this?”

“Nothing.” Valtiel said, leaning back. “You grow it to term and birth it. That’s what you do.”

“But _how_?! I’m a human; a human male! What do you do, cut it out?!”

“You birth it, just like Castiel will birth yours.”

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Cas kind of can’t be injured. I can. There is no way a kid is coming out my ass!”

“Your body will alter itself long enough to birth the child. Cutting it out would be impossible. It subconsciously protects itself. The reason why all those people are dead was your child protecting it’s self. It sent out a surge of deadly energy to kill them. It’s because they were cutting into you, too close to where it resides. It took it as a threat and, as a precautionary measure, killed them. So, if you wanted to abort, that would also not be possible, as it would protect it’s self…”

“Son of a bitch…” Dean groaned. “So, why did it heal me?”

“It won’t let you die. It will keep you alive no matter what. Truth be told, you didn’t need to go to the hospital. As malnourished and dehydrated as you think you are, it would have kept you alive.”

“What does it even feed off of, if I’m so malnourished?”

“Your life force, but not enough to kill you. Just as Castiel’s feeds off his grace.”

Dean leaned back briefly, glancing at Valtiel.

“So, why are you here?” Sam suddenly asked. “Why is it your job to look after Dean and Cas?”

“Because I was an appointed midwife of sorts. I was to look after those who carrying nephilims. I left when God left, and the other angels plunged things into chaos…”

“But why does that matter? If you left Heaven and nephilims are banned, why do you help us?”

“It’s hardwired into my brain to make sure nephilim arrive into the world, and that their carriers are not harmed. Honestly, I should have been destroyed, but it didn’t happen.” Valtiel turned his attention back to Dean, who was looking worse by the second. “I would suggest you rest. You look terrible. Please do…”

“How do I know you’re not gonna kill Sammy and come after me in my sleep?”

Valtiel gave him a very serious and questioning look; one of disbelief that Dean had actually asked that.

“Fine…” Dean said, standing from the couch and sauntering into the bedroom.

 

                When Dean arrived, Castiel was asleep still. It seemed Castiel liked to sleep a lot, for some reason. Dean wasn’t sure if it was because he was tired, or he just liked it. Or both. Either way, he crawled into bed next to him, pushing himself close to his back and wrapping an arm around him until it slid down to his middle. His hand gently rested upon the ever-growing protrusion of his abdomen, and the movement caused Castiel to stir, but not wake fully. He lazily moved his hand to Dean’s, gripping it lightly before falling back asleep.

 

                While Dean drifted off to sleep, Sam’s curiosity got the better of him. He began asking Valtiel questions.

“Why this vessel…? It’s very…different.” Sam asked, looking him over. “Most of the angels I’ve seen are average looking but you are…attractive. Very boyish and pretty. Not like an angel I’ve seen. And your clothes…The tattoo, as well; what does that mean?”

“I’ve switched vessels many times over the millennia; this one just happened to want redemption of some sort. So he accepted me into his body. I have no idea what the tattoo means, but I haven’t bothered to remove it. It’s not hurting anything and no one seems bothered by it.”

 

                Sam continued to ask Valtiel various questions, since Valtiel would actually answer them, while Dean and Castiel stayed snuggled under the covers in bed. Dean awoke shortly after falling asleep when he felt the angel stirring.

“Dean…” he said softly, though with a small amount of fear in his voice. “One of my brothers is here…”

“It’s okay.” Dean said groggily, gently stroking him in an attempt to calm him. “He’s a friend.”

“How do you know this?”

“We talked, and he saved me.”

Castiel rolled over, albeit difficultly, to face Dean. “Saved you?”

“Sam took me to the hospital, because I was sick, and something happened there…He got me out of there and took me home. We’ve been talking…”

“Are you still sick?”

“I am…but not in the way I thought. Cas…I gotta talk to you about something. So uh, I know you wanted a kid, right?”

“Yes…? If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be pregnant right now.”

“One kid enough? Is two too many?”

“If you’re asking me to carry another child after this one is born, I don’t think that’s a good idea, but two children would not be a problem.”

 

                Dean was about to retort, when he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen; it spread across his belly, like he was being punched in the stomach. He gripped the area tightly, but he found that holding too tightly was even more painful. It felt like he was bruised.

“Dean…? Are you okay?”

“I…I don’t know, fuck, this hurts…” Dean hissed out, wondering just what was happening to him. He let out a soft gasp as he felt movement beneath his fingertips; his stomach was moving. Not moving so much as…expanding. Was this what Castiel went through? The pain stopped eventually, and Dean moved his hand. Tentatively, he pulled his shirt up, and pushed the hem of his pants down. The expansion he felt in his stomach wasn’t quite as much to look at, as it was to feel. There was not much of a difference, aside from something else that was very noticeable. Various parts of his abdomen were black and blue with bruises. He wasn’t sure what had happened; he knew this didn’t happen to Castiel, why had it happened to him?

“Hold on…I’ll talk to you in a minute, Cas.” Dean said, groaning lightly as he hauled himself out of bed. He headed back into the living room, finding Valtiel still there.

“Val!” he shouted, addressing the angel. The angel shot him a glare, “My name is Valtiel, not _Val_. What is it?”

“Got a bit of a problem…” Dean said, coming closer. Without anyone’s consent, he lifted his shirt and pushed his pants down to expose his wounds, “The hell is this?”

 

                Valtiel’s mouth fell open, as though he was about to speak, before he closed it again and went into thought.

“I apologize. I didn’t tell you everything… You looked so ill, I thought you should lay down. There’s something more about the existence of nephilim growing within a natural human body… It’s very hard on a human form. Unlike Castiel, the sudden abdominal expansion and growth causes pain and bruising. Castiel may be able to feel the growth, but it doesn’t hurt him. He is, however, an angel as you obviously know…

I won’t lie to you; the next few months are going to be hell. Human pregnancy, in general, is nothing pleasant. With you, it will be worse. You may experience some things that may seem life threatening, but I implore you not to seek medical attention, as it may result in more unnecessary deaths.”

 

                Valtiel’s speech was cut short, when Castiel suddenly emerged. Castiel shot the other angel a very defensive glare, and there was a brief moment where fear crossed Valtiel’s features before he vanished.

“Who was that?” Castiel asked, defensiveness still in his tone.

“Valtiel; and you scared him off… Cas, we need to talk…”

 

                The three of them talked then, explaining what was happening, and attempting to explain to Castiel his own origins. Dean wasn’t quite sure how to gauge Castiel’s reaction at this. He seemed remorseful, rather than happy. He explained that this was because he hadn’t meant to get Dean pregnant, and that he didn’t know. That he was unhappy that he was going to cause him pain and suffering, albeit indirectly.

 

                This remorse was made worse, that night, as things took a turn for the worse. Dean’s temporary lack of vomiting had ceased, and he was again stuck in front of the toilet. He was beginning to notice that despite his lack of eating, the bile he was expelling was starting to have a red tinge to it, and he was beginning to feel pain with each wave. Though, when yet another came, there was an intense, sharp pain deep within his belly, causing him to give out a surprised and pained cry. This alerted Castiel’s attention, who carefully pushed his way into the bathroom.

 

                Dean tried to speak, in response to Castiel’s sudden entry,  but it came out as nothing more than a pained, garbled groan before his stomach contracted again, pushing up more fluid. Though all of the vomit and bile seemed to be gone, replaced by bright crimson fluids instead. He didn’t know where this was coming from, but evidently he was bleeding somewhere inside of his stomach; badly. Every contraction of his stomach sent out more pain, and more blood; squeezing at whatever wound was inside of him.

                The night drew on with not much promise. Dean never stopped, and the blood just kept filling his already sensitive stomach, forcing him to expel it over and over again, more painfully each time, until there was blood dripping down his neck and chest, and he was far too tired to get rid of it. As it drew on, it became worse, to the point where Dean was in too exhausted and in too much pain to even sit up. At this point, Castiel helped strip Dean from his clothes, down to his underwear, and allowed Dean to lay on his lap. He laid some towels down beneath him and let come what may.

 

                He was too damn tired and in too much pain to care anymore, not bothering to try to get up when he felt the urge to vomit; instead, having to do so where he lay, spewing bile and blood on himself, Castiel, and the floor. The constant vomiting and pain soon lead to delirium; where he attempted to speak words that made no sense, which came out as hushed, incomprehensible sentences and gurgling words from the blood that filled his throat. Castiel really had no clue how Dean was even alive, but he knew what Valtiel had said. He did all he could; stroking him gently and running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to make him feel better, but Dean was so far gone at this moment, he might not have even realized where he was.

 

                This became too much for the angel; he was alone, with someone he loved, who barely knew he was there most likely, and he needed someone. He needed comfort, just so he could do the comforting.

“Sam!” Castiel called out loudly, and Dean winced from the sudden loud noise. Sam didn’t come for quite some time, causing Castiel to call him several more times before he finally came to the door, speaking through.

“Cas, you okay in there? I was dead asleep; I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear shit…”

“Sam…I need you in here, please…Dean is very sick and trying to comfort him is taking a toll on my mental state…”

Slowly, Sam pushed open the door, cursing as he entered. There was so much damn blood. He knelt down, on the other side of his brother, placing his hand on his back. It was wet with sweat, and his skin was slightly hot. Most likely from exertion, not fever.

“Dean? Can you hear me?”

“S-sam…” he said weakly, his voice hoarse.

“Shouldn’t he be up?” Sam asked, looking up to the half-naked angel.

“He’s too tired and too sick…I’m sorry, I promise I’ll clean this up.”

“It’s fine, Cas. I’ll do it.” Sam said, gingerly stroking Dean’s back, his fingers getting slick with sweat. It was mildly disgusting, but he could care less right now.

                They needed answers; answers none of them had. Was he going to be okay? Was there anything they could do for this? They needed help… Sam considered his options for a moment before he called out loudly, “Valtiel!” hoping the angel would hear. He called him more; prayed to him to come to their aid, before there was the sound of wings and Valtiel stood in their bathroom. He looked down at Dean, on his face a clear expression of pity and worry.

“Val, what do we do about this?”

“Could you stop calling me that?” Valtiel said, annoyance in his tone. “I don’t know… He will be okay, but he’ll have to ride this out. There is nothing you can do. There is nothing _I_ can do.” Valtiel said, glancing from Sam to Castiel, fear once again clear on his features as his eyes fell upon his angelic brother. His features softened once Castiel showed no sign of hostility, only worry.

“You son of a bitch…” Dean groaned out, his voice hoarse and struggling. “You’re a god damn angel, there’s gotta be something you can do!”

“I’m helping you the best I can. The least you can do is mind your tongue…”

“Why is this happening?” Sam asked, and it was clear by his voice that he was upset.

“His body is weakened. Something in his stomach must have ruptured. Again, the child is keeping him alive, but it does not do so consciously. It’s acting, right now, as an IV supplying blood, instead of fixing the actual wound, so that he does not bleed out. As I said, it’s healing properties are not done consciously, and for whatever reason, it will not close the wound. It is also supplying _too much blood_ , it seems. It’s all filling his stomach, making him sick. The wound won’t close, because the sickness is causing contractions of the stomach, forcing the wound to stay open. This will not stop until he’s to the point of such exhaustion that he loses consciousness and can no longer feel it.

It pains me to see him like this, despite our brief acquaintanceship, but there is nothing I can do. Were this a normal case; were he not pregnant, I could heal his wound, or put him to sleep. But any outside interference from an angel will backfire. As I said, this will have to run its course.”

“Where does the blood go, if it’s not coming up?” Sam asked.

“It goes _down_. It will spill into his intestines; it will be expelled one way or another. Truly, I am sorry, but there is nothing I can do…and on that note, I do need to be going. There is no need for me to be here, and I am needed elsewhere. I do apologize. I hope this passes soon.”

Before anyone could respond, Valtiel was gone.

 

                The next few hours crawled by slowly, and each passing minute seemed to get worse. Dean had slipped into a state where he no longer realized what was going on. He vaguely responded to the two of them, but the only thing his body consciously knew of for sure was the need to vomit. It hurt them; it hurt Dean, for obvious reasons, but it also hurt Sam and Castiel. Castiel, for being the reason this was happening, and having to see Dean like this, and Sam for a similar reason. Sam loved Dean in the way that one loved a brother, and it hurt to see Dean go through this. It hurt to have to take care of the man who had taken care of him all of his life; to see him so functionless and practically comatose, and neither of them could do nothing to take this pain away, or to make him sleep, and he just _wouldn’t sleep_. He had always seen Dean as someone strong, but he had been reduced to _this_.

 

                It had been different when he was comatose completely, or been able to speak, but he was neither of those things. He was awake, but could not speak; exhaustion had shot his mind. He was nothing more than a vomiting body with an empty mind. All he could do was watch, but as Dean lurched forward briefly and sent a spray of blood across the tile and the soaked towels, his body started giving out. Mixed in with blood was the sudden faint smell of urine; pungent enough to be noticed by the fact that there was so little liquid in the body in the first place. Sam averted his eyes, feeling uncomfortable by the whole thing, but it saddened him even more. That his own flesh and blood was so sick, so weak, and so tired he couldn’t even control his bodily functions anymore.

 

                Being that Sam was the one that was free, he reluctantly moved, freeing Dean of his underwear and cleaning him up before he put a towel over his lower half to cover him. There he was, little brother Sam, taking care of his big brother like he was some kind of child or elderly. Because Dean was just gone then and could do nothing for himself but lay there.

 

                Finally, near midnight, Dean lost his battle with consciousness; exhaustion took over and he became more or less comatose. To the point where he couldn’t feel anything anymore, and they were free to move him. Very carefully, Sam pulled the towel around Dean’s lower half around him, so that he wouldn’t expose himself. As Castiel continued to hold him, Sam made use of a spare towel and headed into the bedroom, setting it down on the bed before the both of them hauled him into the bedroom and laid him on the towel. The both of them worked to clean what blood they could off of him, and then left him there.

 

                Castiel cleaned himself off as he usually did, and Sam headed off to take care of the bathroom before the both of them regrouped in the bedroom. Castiel had managed to free Dean of the towel while Sam was away, and pulled a cover over him so that he was not exposed. None of them got much sleep that night, despite Dean being so dead to the world asleep that nothing could wake him, the both of them felt the need to watch over him. Eventually, Castiel lost the battle and fell asleep, at which point Sam left the two of them, heading to his own bedroom and finding that sleep would not call as worry flooded his mind. Eventually, he did sleep, suddenly falling into unconsciousness and dreaming of nothing but blackness.

 

 

CHARACTER ART

Valtiel:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Valtiel, as a name, is not mine. I do not take credit for this name. His tattoo and his role in the story is a reference to the actual Valtiel.


	6. The Thomas Beatie Thing

If Dean learned anything over the past month or two, it was that angel pregnancy was hell. Or rather, being stuck with one in him was hell. Luckily, the terrible symptoms were beginning to diminish. He no longer vomited profusely, only occasionally. Because of this he was able to eat and drink somewhat normally. Somewhat as in he was thirsty and hungry all the damn time and eating the weirdest shit…

 

                Though still, where one symptom left, others popped up in their place. It hadn’t been long after he’d been diagnosed, so to speak, that he found himself peeing more than he’d ever peed in his life. He was not so blessed on the other end, though, and it was infuriating for both him and Sam because he would spend so long in the one and only bathroom. Which brought him to the conclusion that Castiel had it damn lucky. He did have the occasional vomiting still, and the loss of some of his abilities, and he could feel pain, but that was about it on his front. He didn’t have to deal with half of the shit Dean did.

 

                When Castiel did get sick, it was nothing really. It was just bile; there was nothing there but bile. But with Dean, when he did eat, and did get sick it was disgusting and messy. Not to mention, he didn’t have to worry about eating or drinking. He didn’t get uncontrollably hungry, or thirty, or get cravings for really weird and possibly terribly unhealthy things (as he had developed a mild case of pica, hopefully temporary). Nor did he have to worry about going to the bathroom every five god damn minutes, or being so constipated he was backed up to his eyeballs. Yeah, Castiel had it easy, and Dean wouldn’t deny that he was jealous. But it seemed to be slightly okay now, since the vomiting had stopped, despite what Valtiel had said. However, he had been right about some things. The whole vomiting blood and pissing on himself was pretty bad; it didn’t happen just once. That, and the sudden growth spurts in his belly causing painful expansions.

 

                Despite his mild jealousy, he still felt his heart leap when he saw him. Again, he was glowing and perfect, and Dean still couldn’t keep his hands off of him. Which was yet another bad thing… Both of them had sexual appetite, and neither of them could really…fit. Both of them grew every day, and everything was just starting to get in the way. They had to get inventive, but the both of them would get tired out too easily. Which was why they decided they would start to take a new approach, when they got the chance. Luckily, they were going to get that chance, as the three of them decided they needed to go out.

 

                Dean realized they really needed some new clothes. Everything was getting snug, and he desperately needed something that fit better. Castiel, on the other hand, had the luxury of being able to alter whatever he was wearing, so that it would fit regardless, but Dean convinced him that he should try to behave as humanly as possible and try not to use his abilities, so it wouldn’t take away from the baby. Besides, when Castiel did sleep in clothes, it got really uncomfortable on Dean’s end. There were just too many clothes in the way…

 

                Without further ado, the three of them headed out in what would be a fairly awkward venture. They brought Sam along for protection, as he was fairly able-bodied and would have an easier, safer time fighting off anything that might decide to attack than they would. Of course, neither of them were helpless. If need be, they could fight, but it was not recommended.

 

                Dean had pulled on a jacket, and Castiel already had one of sorts, but it was still fairly hard to hide the evidence. It was just too damn _hot_ to keep the jacket closed, but he did the best he could. If that wasn’t weird enough, the fact that they were shopping in a maternity section was even worse. Dean realized that he could get away with just a T-shirt and some loose fitting jeans, but it wasn’t what he wanted. It would be so much easier for something that was able to stretch and grow with him than having to find new clothes all the time. Therefore, he was looking for some gender neutral clothing to fit him. It wasn’t easy finding gender neutral clothing in a purely women’s section, though.

 

                They had not been there more than a half hour when they started getting unwanted attention. A woman, who seemed to think she had some sort of self-entitlement and who was clearly pregnant, wandered into their direction.

“Excuse me, but can I ask what you’re doing here?” she asked, clearly out of bounds but doing it anyway.

“Shopping…” came Dean’s response, not really wanting to bring this conversation any further. She looked him over briefly, her nose wrinkling in irritation and disgust.

“You know there’s a section for heavy men, right? This isn’t what you’re looking for.”

“This is the maternity section, is it not?” Castiel asked suddenly, and Dean feared whatever might come out of his mouth, but kept quiet.

“Uh, yeah?”

“Then the both of us belong here.”

“But…you’re both guys?” the woman asked, dumbstruck. Before Castiel was able to speak again, Dean blurted out the first thing he could think of that would make this seem as normal as it could be.

“Transgender!” he said, slightly too loud. “We’re, uh…we’re doing the Thomas Beatie thing, you know?”

“Both of you?” she asked, still obviously disturbed, and obviously too into their personal business.

“Yeah. Both of us. He’s the dad.” Dean said nervously, pointing over his shoulder at Sam, who promptly choked on his own saliva before shouting, “Dean!”

“He’s shy.” Dean said, with a nervous laugh.

The woman scoffed and headed off, mumbling “Gross,” under her breath.

“What a cunt…” Dean said under his own breath, as soon as she was out of earshot.

“What the hell, Dean?!”

“I was under pressure, Sam.” He grumbled, trying not to draw attention. “It was the first thing I could think of. Think I did okay considering.”

“That’s fucked up. That was fucked up.” Sam said, causing a shrug from Dean’s direction before he went back to clothes shopping. Sam was %99.9 done with Dean’s shit.

“Dean…who is Thomas Beatie?” Castiel asked quietly.

“A man who just happens to have a vagina. I’ll explain it later.”

 

                Their day went on with more curious stares, but people seemed to leave them alone after that. Dean found very little, but he managed. The both of them ended up buying some neutral, stretchable t-shirts and long sleeved shirts, with looser fitting pants that had a stretchable waistband. For those chillier nights, he bought a few loose fitting pajamas for the both of them, so that Castiel would stop filling the bed with clothes.

               

                Unfortunately, their day of awkwardness was not over just yet. The second thing they had to get was more optional, but greatly desired. After they’d gotten to the car, Dean slid into the driver’s seat and took off, neglecting to tell Sam where he was going. Sam felt his stomach drop in fear when they showed up to a shady, dark looking building. Scrawled in neon letters above a pair of dark, double doors was the word ‘Insertive’.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sam said, letting out a soft scoff as he spoke.

“You can stay in the car…”

“You know I can’t do that; why the hell are we here?”

“Look, Sam, I don’t know if you’ve ever had sex with a pregnant person but it’s pretty damn hard, and it’s even worse when it’s two pregnant people tryin’ to bang. It’s like tryin’ to fuck with two huge rocks stuck to your front; everything just gets in the way-.”

“Dean!” Sam said, feeling mildly traumatized. “Just…just go. I’ll be fine. Just don’t start asking me what I recommend…”

 

                It was mildly traumatizing, though. The whole place seemed seedy and shady, but not in a dangerous way. More in a deviant sex criminal way… The place was dark and lined with things the younger brother didn’t care to think about; things he didn’t even know existed, and he had to fight to push out the questioning ‘whys’ that popped into his mind. This was not somewhere he expected to be in his lifetime. In a _sex shop_ , with his pregnant _brother_ , and his pregnant brother’s pregnant _boyfriend_.

 

                It didn’t take long for them to get out, though. It was more Dean looking around at things, than Castiel, as the angel seemed fairly confused by the prospect in general. They got a strange, but amused look from the clerk, who rung them up and bid them adieu, before they were out in the car again. This time, Dean was driving home instead of to another store. The whole time, Sam was lost in thought, just thinking on their life and how damn weird it was.

“Is this really where you expected to see your life?” Sam asked, suddenly causing Dean to glance over to him in confusion. “Uh, what?”

“It’s really weird…I was thinking about it, back there. I was supposed to be a lawyer and you were supposed to be out there hunting demons and tail. But I just…I just went into a sex shop with you. Not for some pretty girl you picked up, but for…yourself. Which, I don’t really want to think about. But here we are, driving to some ass end of the Earth cabin-in-the-woods type place…where I’m living with my pregnant brother, and his pregnant boyfriend…protecting you from _angels_. _Angels_ , Dean!”

“You okay over there, Sammy…?”

“I’m a little flustered…I don’t usually think back on what could have been, or what is, but I guess you _dragging me into a sex shop_ really brought out some repressed feelings…”

“Please don’t go all…chick flick on me here, or something. Just take a breath or something. You’re fine. It’s fine.”

“It’s not that I don’t think it’s _fine_. I mean it’s cool that you two are having kids and all, and you found someone to be with. That’s good. But it’s _weird_.”

 

                The next few hours were uneventful, to say the least. The two brothers ate whatever they’d picked up from some fast food joint, while Castiel just joined Dean on the couch in an attempt to be close to him. As darkness fell, the three of them headed off to bed. Their intention had been to sleep, but the plan quickly went awry. What started off as gentle cuddling soon progressed into something more. A gentle kiss which turned passionate and hungry, with ghosting touches that turned into something more yearning. Now filled with a growing lust, Dean’s fingers trailed along the angel’s skin; hungry to touch what he could. His kisses trailed down Castiel’s jaw, kissing sloppily at his neck as his hands slipped between the angel’s legs. Castiel gasped softly as Dean gripped his stiffening cock, his hips thrusting forward against Dean’s hand. His fingers wrapped along it’s length, pumping slowly and lazily. It was hot; so hot and so familiar to him.

“You want it, baby?” he said softly into his ear, before his lips attacked his jaw again. “Want me to make you feel good?”

“Please…” Castiel said, pleading slightly.

Without speaking, Dean slipped from the bed with as much grace as he could muster, not ignoring the displeased look Castiel gave him. He began to rummage through a bag he had left on the floor before pulling out a package with a long, cylindrical object and a pack of batteries.

“Wanna play?”

“Will that hurt…?” Castiel asked, eyeing the package in his hand.

“Doubt it…” Dean said, pulling open both packages and pushing the batteries inside, before closing the twist-on lid.

 

                Castiel rolled onto his back and propped himself up on the headboard and pillows, spreading his legs apart as he waited for Dean to come back. Before coming back, Dean grabbed the lube from the drawer and then settled in front of him, dripping it onto his fingers before they delved between his legs and sought out his opening. It didn’t take much to get him to relax, before Dean began feeding his fingers into the other male’s body. He watched as Castiel pushed against his fingers, desiring more contact. The whole scene was just arousing, as usual. Subconsciously at first, his hand drifted down between his own legs, grabbing hold of his turgid cock before he stroked himself slowly.

 

                When he was sufficiently prepared, Dean took the object in his hand again, slicking it with lube before he pushed it against Castiel’s opening, yet he didn’t enter. Merely rubbed it against him teasingly, as his fingers sought out the dial near the top. He twisted it slightly, and he watched Castiel jerk in surprise and let out a ragged gasp as the object sprung to life, vibrating softly but apparently just enough.

“Does that hurt?”

There was no response; just some sort of verbal ‘mmm’ing noise as he shook his head, and his hips pushed downwards and rolled against the object.

“You like this?”

“Y-yes,” Castiel said, stuttering and gasping as he desperately tried to get more friction.

Dean began to experiment, turning the dial a bit more and wringing a whining cry from the older male. All the while he continued to stroke himself, finding the scene in front of him so incredibly erotic.

 

                After a bit more teasing, he slowly began to push forward, feeding the plastic into his body. The angel’s hips jerked slightly, and his fingers gripped at the sheets as he let out a breathless moan, his hips again pushing downward in desperation. Again, in curiosity, Dean turned the dial again, and it seemed to drive the angel absolutely crazy. He let out a sharp cry, his head tilting back into the pillow. He seemed completely at ease, so Dean began moving his hand, thrusting it slowly and angling it in different ways, trying to find the place that Castiel loved so much. He knew he’d found it by his sudden change of behavior, and Dean was honestly getting a bit worried. Instead of those fairly pleased noises he usually made, it was more or less a scream of pleasure. Damn it, this was going to wake Sam up, but he wasn’t about to stop.

               

                Castiel was an absolute mess; writhing and shaking as he pushed against him. He was so desperate and so lost; his breathing was ragged and the cries he let out were almost mournful, but he wasn’t telling him to stop. He suddenly began speaking, cursing and speaking Enochian again, and Dean wasn’t sure if it was because Castiel knew he liked it, or because he just couldn’t help it. But either way, it greatly fueled the lust within him, and it was pushing him closer to the edge.

 

                The angel suddenly seized, his body arching as his fingers gripped tight enough to almost rip the sheets, and a strained scream broke from his lungs. His body trembled as the milky fluid languidly streamed from his cock, dripping down his shaft and onto his sac. He laid there for a few moments after Dean had removed the toy and turned it off, whimpering slightly and trembling, still trying to come back to Earth. Despite his worry, Dean came soon after, spurting cum onto the sheets below him and some of Castiel’s thigh.

 

                He was trying to recover, when he was suddenly struck with the oddest feeling. Movement; incredibly strong movement in his abdomen. His hand shot to his belly, gripping the area, as he felt pressure against his hand from the movement inside of him.

“Oh, _fuck_ , I pissed it off.”

Seemingly recovered now, Castiel sat up, pushing himself towards Dean as his hand gently brushed the hunter’s away, resting softly on his abdomen.

“You pissed no one off.” Castiel said, kissing him softly. “Has this never happened before?”

“No, and it’s fucking weird.” Dean said, his hand coming to rest over the angel’s. “What about you…so far?”

“Yes…” Castiel said, before he grimaced slightly and let out a soft noise of pain. His free hand wen to his belly, resting upon it lightly before he took Dean’s hand and placed it where his own was.

“See?” he said, his voice slightly strained before he whimpered slightly again, as Dean felt a very strong kick against his hand. “It’s not happy…I think I may have jostled it from sleep…”

God, it was _so_ strong.

 

                He felt it move beneath his hand, before it shifted completely, and he saw things that were somewhat frightening but at the same time amazing. He watched as it pushed against his insides, and he saw what appeared to be a foot pushing his skin out, before it moved again and there, where a foot had been, was the smallest hand he had ever seen. He pushed his own hand against it softly, completely dwarfing the one that was pushing against the angel’s stomach.

 

                It filled him with a sense of relief. It had been scary, not knowing what was in there or what might come out, but he saw now that it had everything it needed. It wasn’t like the last time. It had legs; it had feet. He couldn’t be too optimistic, as he still didn’t know what could happen in the future, but it was still a breath of fresh air.

 

                All of this relief was short lived, and replaced by shock and embarrassment as the fluttering of feathers sounded behind them.

“Val, what the fuck?!” Dean said, pulling a blanket over what he could.

“Don’t be ashamed of your nudity; I could care less. I come bearing important news. You have to leave… It’s not safe here. They know where you are, and they’re not happy. They’re coming for you…You need to get packed, now. Get Sam, get in the car; I’ll ride with you, and I’ll tell you where to go. Be ready; it’s going to be a _very_ long trip. Approximately nineteen hours.”

“Where the hell are we going?”

“No time to explain, just go!”


	7. Lebanon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for this short ass chapter

                It had been a giant hassle, filled with chaos as they packed what they could and left. Mostly clothes and various other supplies. The trunk was packed to the gills; this was the one bad thing about having such a classic, smaller car. Both Valtiel and Castiel helped with this, though, using their angelic abilities to make things easier. It was mind blowing what the two of them could do…Bending the very laws of fabric and reality, it seemed, to make things easier. Dean was a bit scared of Castiel using his powers, but after what he’d seen just moments ago, he felt less nervous.

 

                Dean was both nervous and a bit untrusting as he headed off, having no idea where he was going, but Valtiel seemed to know the way, instructing him which way to go. He would not give them a clear definition of where they were going, saying it would be safer to talk once they got there. The only clue he gave them was that it related to their birth; the Winchester birth, that was. It had nothing to do with Castiel. He was able to speak to them about other things, and as they drove he spoke.

“So, why did we have to leave? How did they find us…? What stopped them from finding us before?” Dean asked, looking back to both Castiel and Valtiel briefly before turning back to the road.

“The warding seals are still active. The reason Castiel can find you is because the bond between the two of you is very strong. It surpasses the strength of the warding spells.”

“So, how can you find us?”

“It isn’t you, particularly, that I found. It was the child. I sense them after a certain time, and I watch after them. Usually in secret. There is one other nepilim pregnancy in the world right now; one that is in much less danger than the two of you. But the Winchesters are notorious. The rest of the angels aren’t happy with you, right now, to begin with. But creating not one, but two nephilim…you’ve become a bit of a target. Most angels can’t sense nephilim pregnancies. I can, because that’s how I was created. But the incident at the hospital tipped them off, and they’ve been looking for you. I’ve been listening in on them, yet keeping my own thoughts shielded. That’s how I know they’ve found you; I don’t know exactly _how_ you were found, but you were. I think they know I’m working with you, in some way… They’re being careful with what they say. They made the mistake though of not attacking immediately. It gave me time…I don’t think they knew where you were, exactly. More of it being just a hunch; a good hunch. They were planning; they took too long to plan.”

“So how can they not track you?”

“I have my own way of warding off and hiding from other angels, for protection against this very thing…”

Dean shifted in his seat as he continued driving, still having many more questions but feeling fairly uncomfortable at the moment.

“So…Cas, how come he was able to sense the baby, if others can’t?”

“What do you mean…?”

“I came home one day, and he attacked me. Told me he thought I was an angel because I was giving off an aura. How was he able to sense it, if angels can’t sense nephilim?”

“Because he’s a breeder, and because it was his child. But, as I said, he never knew about his status…”

“I’m right here.” Castiel said, suddenly piping up. “You’re talking about me like I’m elsewhere…”

“Sorry…” Valtiel said, looking to him suspiciously.

“Why are you staring?”

“There’s something …strange about you.” Valtiel said, and Dean couldn’t help but keep an eye on the two. He felt nervousness settling in the pit of his stomach; or vomit. One of the two; he really hoped it was just nerves.

“Something about your child is…off. It’s aura is very confusing. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with the baby, although, I wouldn’t be able to tell, but something is…off, as I said. It’s large. Very large. It may mean you are more or less developing a very strong, very healthy, very _large_ child.”

 

                Castiel seemed okay with this, and in truth so was Dean, but it made him feel a bit worried. Castiel had difficulties birthing their last child; it was fairly normal sized, though he didn’t prefer to think about it. With something so big, how would he fair? Maybe Valtiel was wrong, though.

 

                The rest of the drive was fairly silent; one noticeable exception being when Dean stole Sam’s half empty water bottle to use as a pee bottle and received quite the complaining.

“Couldn’t you have just pulled over?” Sam asked, irritated.

“I’m not stopping if I don’t need to.”

“That’s gross…”

“It’s not like you’ve never done it either.”

“That’s because _someone_ doesn’t stop the car and makes me do it. And you took my water.”

“Look, Sam; a man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. It’s not like you don’t have any more…” Dean said, gesturing to the bag of water bottles situated at Sam’s feet.

Sam merely groaned, and turned his attention out the window. He was starting to get tired, and he was sure Dean was too. They should probably stop soon… But Dean pressed on, until they decided to switch. Dean really was getting tired, and he needed sleep, or things were going to go badly. They should probably stay at a motel, but Valtiel warned against it.

 

                Luckily, Sam had gotten a bit of sleep; now it was Dean’s turn. This was a tactic they pulled most often; switching driving duties while the other slept, although Dean seemed more adamant about driving half the time. Though now, being pregnant and all, he did get tired easier.

 

                He drove for hours upon hours until he woke Dean up again and he took over. This trip seemed to be taking quite a while… The sun had risen at some point, and they still had not arrived. By the time the sun was starting to go down again, they arrived at a place who’s name had had great bearing on their life; Kansas. They understood now what Valtiel had meant when Valtiel said the place related to their birth. It seemed to be taking forever to get there, but eventually Valtiel told them they were getting closer to their destination when they arrived in Lebanon. Dean almost kept driving until Valtiel suddenly told him to stop. There beside them was what appeared to be an abandoned concrete factory, and a wall built into the Earth, containing a door that was lead to by a short set of stairs.

“Well, this is inconspicuous…” Dean said, looking at the looming building.

Valtiel didn’t respond, merely exited from the car and awaited them as he climbed down the stairs. He pulled from his pocket a box, which he opened and withdrew a key.

“Getting this was painful…” Valtiel said, sliding the key inside and pushing the door open. It creaked, signaling it had not been opened in quite some time.

The inside was dark, as expected, but they were able to find a panel which contained a lever that caused the place to spring to life. There was the clicking and buzzing sounds of the lights coming on and everything coming back to life as they flipped it.

“Welcome to your safe haven.” Valtiel said, gesturing to all that was around him.

“What is this place?” Sam questioned, before Dean could ask.

“A stronghold, if you will. Filled with knowledge and safety. There is a catalogue of nearly every supernatural creature in existence, and so much more. But that is not of import at the moment. What matters is your safety. It’s warded against all evil, but…unfortunately, not so much angels. It does provide protection from them, though. Here, nothing can hear us. If there were angels listening in on our thoughts, or our conversations, it would be blocked here. Your whole existence here will be hidden by the power of this place.”

“So, who owned this before?” Dean asked, finally able to get a word in.

“Interestingly enough, a group that your grandfather belonged to. They’re called The Men of Letters. It was their job to document the supernatural, rather than hunt it. This was their sanctuary.”

“Grandfather? You mean the douchebag who ran out on dad?” Dean asked, irritation in his tone.

“Your grandfather was not a _douchebag,_ as you put it. He was to be initiated into the Men of Letters on the night it was attacked. It was attacked by a Hell knight who sought the very key I hold here. Your grandfather was killed in the attack.”

“So…where was the key?”

“With me. Getting this key required traveling back in time. It was very stressful or me, but I managed to locate them and get the key from them under the pretense that it would be more safely guarded with an angel, than with them. Of course, this was not the real reason, but it did stop the Hell knight from gaining entry to this stronghold. I went back before the attack, took the key, and came back. So, by the time she came looking for it, it was gone.”

“So you knew about this; knew about the attack, and did nothing? Didn’t even try to warn these people?” Dean asked, his voice growing a bit louder.

“Taking the key was better in the long run. I could have warned them, but they would have been killed anyway. They would have been found, killed, and the key would have been taken. The demons would break in, and who knows what would have happened. The place is warded against demons, but they probably would have found a way…” Valtiel said, trailing away from them as he paced the floor.

“Regardless, you should be safe here, and if you need me, call…also,” Valtiel said, leaning against the wall. “Please, call me when either one of you goes into labor. I’d prefer to deliver it. It’s what I do. It’s what I know _how_ to do.”

“You okay with that, Cas?” Dean asked, glancing over at the other angel who was leaning against the wall.

“I don’t really mind…”

Dean sighed, thinking it over. Did he really want some random angel looking at his junk for God knows how long? Well, he’d had worse…

“Alright…” he said, grimacing slightly. He preferred not to think about the whole labor thing. It was _not_ something he was looking forward to. In fact, it scared the shit out of him. Dean had been through Hell and back, quite literally, and he could handle pain. He could handle the flesh being stripped from his bones and the gore and carnage torn out of his body, but despite that he didn’t have any higher of a pain tolerance. Pain still hurt, and he didn’t like it. He was sure that the feeling of having everything removed from his body probably hurt _worse_ than labor, but he still couldn’t help but be a little frightened by it.

“I can see you’re off in your head…I’m going to leave. There’s no reason for me to be here anymore. It’s best we keep our visits brief, lest they find a way to trace me to you. Goodbye.”

Without another word, Valtiel was gone.

\---

 

                The rest of the day consisted of exploring a bit, before they headed to bed. There were multiple sleeping quarters, so that Dean and Castiel could both have their own room. Like at the Rufus’s, but a bit more private, as Sam’s room was a bit further away. Dean insisted he get the room by the bathroom, for obvious reasons, and Sam did not protest.

 

                The rooms and bed, like the rest of the bunker, was a bit old and musty, but they could easily sleep on it. It was a little bit uncomfortable, but he’d had worse in motels. Despite it’s wear, Dean had other plans than sleeping on it for this bed. The two of them had very slow, lazy, sleepy, difficult sex before falling against each other in near slumber. Before the two of them fell asleep, Dean decided to ask a question that had been bugging him for quite a while.

“Cas…What do you say during sex? When you speak in your language?”

“Words of endearment…Curses. Either of those. I usually say them either because you like it, or because it’s the first word that comes to mind and I can’t help but say it, without thought. It’s actually quite embarrassing…”

“There’s nothing embarrassing about that.” Dean said, kissing his forehead softly, “It’s hot…”

“If you say so…” Castiel said sleepily, right before he fell into a sleep. Dean thought on it for a moment. He made Castiel feel so good that he forgot how to speak English, it seemed like… Yes, that was pretty satisfying…


	8. Mosiac

The months flew by, and their lives seemed fairly stable. Sam and Castiel were very happy with their new home; or rather, the contents of it. It was filled with various tomes of knowledge and strange artifacts that Castiel was kind enough to identify for them. Both Sam and Castiel spent the days cataloguing everything in the bunker, with some help from Dean. Both of them enjoyed reading and cataloguing. Dean didn’t understand it…

                Dean was starting to feel very fat, but it was nothing compared to Castiel, who was very unhappy as of late. He was so much bigger than the last time; none of them could understand it. Not even Valtiel; although he had warned them of the strange aura. Why was the baby so big, though…? What was different about this time? It was also _very_ active, much to Castiel’s dismay, because it hurt him. The baby liked to use his organs as punching bags, and Dean knew that pain. As his own child developed, it became more rambunctious. He was ill equipped to deal with such a baby. Due to the fact that he was human, and it was nephilim, too much excitement would give off massive amounts of energy that his body could not cope with. There would be days when it would be light kicking; there would be days when he was being kicked in the kidneys, and then there would be days where the baby was so wound up he was literally being burned from the inside before being healed, only to be burned again. Castiel did not have this problem. It was painful, but he did not experience the burning. Dean didn’t exactly know why.

 

                Unfortunately, with increasing pregnancy came great moodiness. Castiel had a tendency to be the moodiest little shit. He would go from ridiculously clingy, to telling him to get the hell away from him in less than two seconds. Then he would usually come back and apologize, sometimes tearfully, but Dean endured it all…for the most part. Because, like Castiel, Dean had a tendency to get moody too. When the two of these collided, it was usually pretty nasty.

 

                Said moodiness came to a head the moment Dean walked into the kitchen, and found Castiel making coffee. That was weird… Castiel didn’t need to drink that, so why was he? He didn’t need to drink at all.

“You’re having coffee? At noon?”

“I can’t fucking _sleep_!” Castiel shot at him, and Dean felt like he’d just been stung by some irate jelly fish.

“The fuck crawled in your cheerios and died?”

“Insomnia, Dean!”

“You know coffee won’t help with that, right?”

“I _know_ what coffee does. I’ve been alive long enough to see it’s invention; don’t talk to me like I’m stupid. I’m …so _damn_ tired, but I can’t sleep. Every time I try to fall asleep I get _woken up_ and it’s worse than not sleeping at all, because it makes me so _sick_ and dizzy.”

“Coffee will make that worse, Cas. Just…stop, okay?” Dean said, and Castiel dejectedly set the scoop back in the coffee grounds.

“Why can’t you sleep?” Dean asked, his voice gentle.

“Because it won’t stop _kicking me_. It’s like it has 2,000 limbs and they’re all existing to bring be absolute misery. Every time I fall asleep I’m getting kicked in some godforsaken part of my insides.”

It was very strange to hear Castiel use the word godforsaken, but he wasn’t going to dwell on it.

“Have you tried things that are supposed to make you fall asleep?”

“Yes…but it keeps waking me up. I want it _out_. I just want to sleep…All it does is hurt me. I feel I’m beginning to resent this child before it is even born…” Castiel said, his voice broken slightly as he slumped against the counter, leaning against it on his elbows.

“Oh, Cas…don’t say that.” Dean said, coming closer to him and placing a hand on his back. “It’ll be different once it’s born. I promise you. You’re gonna see that baby, and you’re gonna fall in love with it.”

“I don’t know…” Castiel said, his voice still broken, and Dean could tell he was either crying or on the verge of tears. “If all it does is bring me pain lately, will it be any different when it’s born? As much as I wanted this child, sometimes I think I’m not meant to have children. Am I really parent material?”

“You’re gonna be fine…”

“I don’t know. I’ve been trained to be a warrior, not a mother. I’ve never had to take care of a child in my life.”

 

                Dean let out a sigh, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him away from the counter, almost like he was lifting him.

“Let’s go to bed. I know it’s early, but maybe I can help you sleep.”

Castiel turned from the counter, nodding, and Dean could see the small streaks of tears wetting his face. The both of them headed to the bedroom, and to the bed that they had replaced the day after they got there. The angel crawled onto the bed, lying on his side and pulling his knees up as far as he could. Dean soon joined him, and set to trying to soothe him, running his hand along his side; down his ribs and the jut of his hip, to the tops of his thighs and back again. Castiel had other plans, though…

 

                As Dean’s hand neared his hip, Castiel grasped it and held it still.

“Dean…there’s one thing I haven’t tried to help me sleep. Maybe you can help me.”

“And that is…?”

Without speaking, Castiel urged his hand downwards, under his stomach until it was resting on his crotch. There was a very noticeable bulge growing within the loose jeans he wore.

“Seriously? How can you go from crying to horny in the span of ten minutes?”

“I have no clue, to be honest…But that doesn’t make the situation any less desperate. Please?”

Dean sighed roughly, before pulling the band of his pants down so that he was exposed enough. Luckily, Dean was starting to realize what Castiel liked. He knew what got him off quick, and he knew what made him tired. He rolled over the best he could, reaching into the nearby drawer and grabbing the lube they kept there. Running it along his fingers, he slipped his hand between the angel’s legs and sought out his entrance, rubbing at it lightly until he relaxed enough for him to enter.

 

                What followed was routine; or rather, it was supposed to be routine. He had managed to get two fingers in, thrusting them in and out as he forced them into his prostate. Castiel was clearly enjoying it, his hips moving to meet the thrusting of his fingers. Suddenly, he made a very unusual noise. One he’d not heard before, and it scared him.

“Cas…?”

“Keep going…” he said breathlessly, looking at him with determination and lust in his eyes.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked, this time not stopping. Castiel only nodded, biting down on his lip as he did so. Within a few moments, he could feel his muscles start tightening, and his body becoming slightly rigid; a usual telltale sign that he was about to reach climax. He suddenly lowered his head, his teeth fastened to his lip as he let out a muffled whimper, his breath stuttered and shaking.

 

                Dean awaited what he thought would come; the way he cried out and seized, the presence of the wetness against him, but something completely different happened entirely, and the suddenness scared him half to death. Instead of tightening ultimately, the muscles around his fingers loosened some, then spasmed around him as a hot fluid rushed at him, with such force that it quickly went past his fingers, forcing it’s self out and dripping down his arm and the angel’s thigh.

“Fuck!” Dean cursed, quickly pulling his fingers out, causing what was trapped by them to quickly rush out and run down Castiel’s thigh and onto the bed.

“I’m so sorry, Cas- I was trying to put you to sleep not…this.”

“It’s not your fault…” Castiel said, pushing his pants down the rest of the way, pulling his legs out of them.

Since the rest of the sheets were wet, Dean wiped his hand on the bed cloth before placing it on the other’s hip, soothingly running up his side until it rested at his stomach.

“You okay? You ready for this?”

“Mmm…mhm. I’m…f-fine…” Castiel said, stuttering slightly as his breathing picked up. He tried to focus breathing; letting out a slow, shaking breath. Dean could feel the muscles tensing beneath his palm as he did so, and it was like he knew exactly everything that was going on.

 

                Dean somehow felt very proud; Castiel was taking this very well, this time. He seemed to be able to control his pain a bit easier, or perhaps it just wasn’t bad enough yet… Either way, it looked promising.

“Valtiel!” Dean suddenly yelled out, remembering he was supposed to call the angel. He, of course, didn’t respond immediately. So he waited, in near silence, waiting for him to show up. “Come on, you son of a bitch, you promised me!”

“I believe the saying is ‘hold your horses’,” came the angel’s voice, accompanied by the sound of his wings. “I’m here. You’re fine.”

Before any more could be said, Castiel pushed his upper half forward, leaning his head into Dean’s chest as he gripped his arm tightly, and let out a low whimpering noise. His breathing was stuttered and heavy, hot against his chest. Valtiel moved around to the side of the bed, and it was at this point his demeanor suddenly changed towards his angelic brother.

Dean felt a sudden surge of jealousy run through him as he watched Valtiel’s hand slip between Castiel’s thighs, pushing on the free one, but Castiel didn’t move. His body was rigid and tight as he whimpered into Dean’s chest, and Valtiel was having difficulties.

“Come on, sweetie. Lift your leg for me.” Dean wasn’t sure if he had heard Valtiel right. The other angel seemed cold, most of the time, or uncaring, like this was routine and he’d like to get it over with. But apparently, seeing Castiel like this must have triggered something in him. Perhaps this, too, was his duty; to not be a dick at times like this.

Castiel obeyed him, relaxing enough to let Valtiel lift his leg up. The other angel pushed it back, so that his thigh was pressed up against his belly.

“What are you looking for?”

“Trying to decide the amount of towels I need… Some angels bleed a lot, others don’t. Castiel appears to be one of the bleeders…” Valtiel said, gently easing his leg back down again.

“Is that bad…?”

“No. There _is_ a lot of blood, but it’s most likely normal.”

Dean didn’t want to press it; he didn’t want to mention what had happened last time. How there had been a lot of blood, and how everything had gone wrong. But he knew mentioning it now, especially with Castiel in such a state, would be bad. He just had to hope that things would turn out right…

“You need towels? Should I get them?” Dean asked, getting ready to move, but Valtiel stopped him.

“No, you stay there. There are other able-bodied people in this bunker. Sam!” Valtiel yelled suddenly, causing Dean to recoil from the sudden loud noise.  He was able to amplify his voice somehow, which made it even louder. If Sam didn’t hear that, he was probably deaf….

 

                Eventually, Sam entered, and Dean felt vaguely impressed that Sam knew where Valtiel had called him from. Before he could say anything, Valtiel spoke.

“Towels. All of them that you can find.”

Without a response, Sam turned to walk out of the room, coming back as soon as he could with a huge bundle of towels. He handed them to Valtiel, who promptly pushed up what he could of Castiel’s lower half so he could slide a few towels under there, before placing the last one over his bottom half.

“We might need you…” Valtiel said, turning to the younger brother. “Are you okay with being in here?”

“I’ve done it before…” Sam said, sauntering over to the chair near the bed.

 

                And so there was the waiting game, as there had been before. Castiel did a bit better than last time, but still protested when Dean finally had to move. Instead of laying down, he opted for sitting up, and Castiel ended up lying on Dean’s thighs, his hands gripping and pulling at the fabric of his shirt and jeans while Dean placed his hand gently on his. Eventually, during this time, Castiel opted for Dean’s hand rather than his shirt, gripping it tightly as Dean squeezed back when he rode through contractions.

 

                He appeared to be reaching his limit though, and he called out to Valtiel, his voice rough and hoarse from crying out long into the night. “Valtiel…is there nothing you can do?” he asked, strained and shaking, just long enough for him to speak before his breathing returned to ragged pants.

“There is not…I’m sorry. You’re doing well, though.”

“This feels _nothing_ like well.”

It was only a few moments before the ordeal came worse; they suddenly became quicker and harder, leaving him breathless and crying out in agony. Valtiel took this moment to move the towel from his lower half, for reasons Dean didn’t quite understand at the time being. Perhaps it was a sixth sense of some sort. Dean noticed Sam trying to avert his eyes out of courtesy, and possibly not wanting to see the angel so exposed.

 

                Once again, his demeanor suddenly changed, signaled by a rough, deep groan, and the sudden feeling of Castiel’s body tensing against him. He was so incredibly tense… Seconds later, he heard a most alarming sound. Something very liquid; like rushing fluids, squelching disgustingly as they emerged. Dean glanced down to see a torrent of blood rushing from between the angel’s thighs, and it made his heart leap in his chest from nervousness.

“Stop!” Valtiel said suddenly, gripping his thigh in an attempt to get him to listen. Castiel suddenly relaxed somewhat, his body becoming limp as he let out a defeated sob. “I can’t-God, it hurts!” he said, his voice shaking with pain. Dean wasn’t quite sure what was going on, until Castiel apparently disobeyed his orders, and he felt his body tense again. This sent yet another rush of blood down his thighs, soaking the towels beneath him.

“Two seconds, Castiel!” Valtiel suddenly shouted, pushing his hand between his thighs again before pushing his leg up.

“Sam!” Valtiel shouted, his voice the very embodiment of commanding. “Hold this!”

 

                Sam quickly leapt from the chair, coming over to the bed and sitting behind the angel the best he could, his hands coming to grip his leg so that he could hold it up, exposing him all the more. There was so much blood, and it just kept coming. Dean realized now, as another torrent of blood spurted from his body and dripped down his already blood-soaked thighs, that he was attempting to push now, and that apparently the urge had been so great he defied Valtiel. He suddenly gripped Dean’s hand almost impossibly tight, and Dean wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t hurt; because it did. It was followed by an almost primal growl, leading to a scream that violently ripped from his lungs, and Dean could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he watched him. His eyes had turned downward, watching as the blood started to slow, and became replaced by mass. Oh God, that was his child…

 

                Much to his dismay, the angel’s body became limp again, as he lay against Dean, sharp whines of pain tearing from his lungs as he nearly sobbed. His breathing was harsh and quick, as though every breath he took was destroying his lungs.

“Come on baby, you’re so close.” Dean said, gripping his hand tightly. Dean wasn’t sure if he had encouraged him or not, but Castiel continued, his hand gripping him tightly again as he bore down. He felt a strange myriad of emotions go through him, as he watched his child slowly ebb into the world. Fear, joy, nervousness; it was all mixed together so powerfully he wondered if he would vomit. His heart was pounding so quickly in his chest, feeling as though it would burst through any moment. And soon, as the angel growled out in pain and exertion, he watched his child’s face enter the world; cool air touching it’s skin, though it didn’t seem to bothered at the moment. It both scared him and excited him; it looked so peaceful, but what was beneath the surface?

 

                Valtiel was able to start working the child out, with Castiel still assisting as he consistently bore down, which was strange because he had not last time. Valtiel didn’t complain though; it was helping. When he finally worked it free, Dean didn’t know that he could love the sound of crying so much. It’s lungs worked, breathing and squalling as it was freed into the world. Though Castiel was weak, he exerted a great amount of strength as he managed to move, rolling onto his back and attempting to sit up. He was suddenly stopped, as he attempted to bring himself into a sitting position, and Dean felt a cold chill of panic run through his spine as he gripped tightly at his now smaller abdomen, hissing in pain and letting out a shuttering breath.

“Cas? What’s wrong, baby?” Dean asked, and he could hear the panic in his voice. Castiel didn’t have a chance to answer, as he attempted to but it only came out as a rough scream.

 

                His body and mind were filled with panic; his child was fine, but what of Castiel? Could they never win? He feared now, even with a healthy child, he was about to lose it’s mother.

“We’ve got a problem…Sam, I need you to do me a favor. You too, Dean.” Valtiel said, as his fingers suddenly gripped the blueish, fleshy cord still connected to it’s stomach. Dean finally got a good look at it’s front, and even with glancing he could see a distinct lack of male genitalia; so he knew what his child was now. A girl… Another girl. While he was distracted, trying to sex his own child, he saw the cord suddenly give way, detaching from the still squalling infant.  Valtiel made quick work, wrapping the child in a towel before asking Sam to hold it.

“Dean, get behind him.” Valtiel said, and Dean did, getting behind Castiel and more or less supporting him as he leaned against him. He watched as Valtiel pushed his legs apart, and his face growing concerned.

“What the hell is happening?”

“Something I should have seen coming. This all makes so much sense now, but it’s so rare I never thought of it. He wasn’t carrying one baby.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dean asked, his voice full of disbelief.

“Not in the least bit.”

With this news, Castiel let out a combination of a groan and a sob, “I…I can’t. Valtiel, please. I can’t go through this twice. There’s nothing you can do?”

“No, but you can do this, Castiel. It’s completely possible. You were a warrior. You’ve killed countless, and you’ve been injured by countless more. You’ve exhausted yourself to the point of near death, and yet you prevail. You are completely capable of giving birth. And you give birth to create life; to bring it into the world, unlike the energy you exhausted killing. You’ve fought for others, now fight for yourself. Fight for your own _flesh and blood_ ; bring this child into the world! Lest you kill both it, and yourself by refusing to do so.”

“You make a convincing argument.” Castiel managed to breathe out, the sound pushing out of his lungs, constrained by his muscles as his body radiated with pain.

“Good,” was Valtiel’s only response.

 

                Dean watched as, once again, the angel’s hand seemed to gravitate to his abdomen, clutching tightly at it as pain wracked his body again, and almost instinctively, his own hand moved to grace the top of Castiel’s. When he was capable enough to focus, Castiel gripped onto Dean’s hand, instead of his own body. Time ticked on, and the time it took for the second child to descend far enough was not nearly as long as the first had been. About maybe fifteen to twenty-five minutes. At each interval, he could feel Castiel gripping him tighter, but he tried to ignore the pain in his hand.

“Valtiel…” he said, between heavy pants of air, with his voice so incredibly hoarse. Valtiel seemed to understand what he meant, further confirmed as he spoke.

“I know, just start pushing, honey.”

And there it was again, that almost sickly sweet tone that Valtiel seemed to develop.

 

                Dean felt the angel’s body tense against his, and he threw his head back as he let out a guttural groan, leaning it against Dean’s shoulder. He felt his grip tighten again, and the bones push together so hard in his hand. It just kept tightening, and tightening; applying so much pressure to the delicate bones that they gave way and snapped, signaled by a sickening crack. In pure shock, Dean cried out in pain, biting down on his lip a minute later and taking in a deep breath.

“Dean?” Sam asked, his tone nervous and worried. Sam, who had been standing there, trying to soothe a baby that wasn’t his and watching in both awe and concern. He could practically see through him; watching his mind working. Praying to God that Dean was not next on this labor list.

“M’fine Sam…” he breathed out, groaning slightly as he worked through the pain of having his fractured bones squeezed together.

“What happened?”

“My…hand. My fucking _hand_. Cas, please baby, please let go.” He pleased, and to his astonishment, Castiel actually listened, his shaking fingers loosening on Dean’s hand to come to rest at his own shirt.

Castiel stopped momentarily, breathing heavily as he took a few second break.

“Are you…okay?” he asked, barely able to get the words out through his labored breathing.

“Yeah I just...you kinda broke my hand.”

“I…shit, I’m…s-so sorry.” Castiel said, his voice stuttering as the pain started coming back again; barely able to give him any rest at all.

“It’s okay, baby. C’mon, you gotta keep pushing. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.”

“You’re almost done. Give it your all and I can get this baby out.” Valtiel said, looking up at him.

With little response, Castiel went back to his ministrations, and Dean felt his body arch against him, his head thrown back as he screamed and his body tensing so incredibly hard. It was at this point that he went limp, and not seconds later did Dean hear the sharp cries of an infant in his ears. He felt a flood of relief run through his body, until he looked at Valtiel’s face. His brows were knitted in confusion and mild concern.

 

                Dean panicked; oh God, something was wrong. Something was wrong again and they’d have to go through this shit all over again. But the baby was crying, right? It couldn’t be that bad.

“Val…? Val, please, give me some good news.”

“We…we have a very …small, possibly moderate problem. The baby is very healthy it appears, but…something is amiss in…would you like to hold it?”

Dean was having flashbacks; Valtiel was calling his child an it. Panic was running through his veins, and he almost declined, but in the end he nodded. Valtiel handed the child to him, still naked and bloody, and at first Dean saw no problems. Everything was there. It had legs, it had arms, head, shoulders, it had a penis, it…oh, there was the problem.

“Holy _shit._ ” Was Dean’s only reply. “It’s both cat ‘n mouse…”

Yes, the child had everything. In fact, it had _too_ much. Dean understood Valtiel’s statement, now. The ‘it’ comment, because what exactly would they call something with _both_ sets of genitals?

“Cat and mouse?” Sam asked, and Castiel still seemed unable to speak.

“It’s intersex.” Valtiel responded. “This isn’t unheard of…There are several angels who are actually intersex. They generally go by a specific gender pronoun though. Since the child is unable to decide for itself at the moment, what would you suggest calling it?”

“…Cas?” Dean asked, looking towards him.

“Please, hand me my child…” Castiel said, finally speaking, “One of them anyway. Preferably the one you hold, Dean, so I can try to figure something out.”

Dean gingerly passed the child onto Castiel, making sure the still attached cord didn’t get stuck on anything as he did so.

 

                Castiel looked at the child closely, though he seemed lost in a way. Just watching it, as he held it gently in his arms.

“…I don’t know. Dean? What did you notice first?”

“…A penis? I don’t know…Should we say it’s male?”

“I could agree on that. It’s aura…it’s too mixed up for me to tell it’s specific gender. Sam, give me my daughter.”

“You could tell from over there?” Sam asked, gingerly handing the now calmed infant to her mother.

“I can…” Castiel said, cradling the two of them gently. He carefully positioned both children, one bloody and the other less so, on each side, both of them attaching themselves to him for warmth.

Dean watched him, lost in a trance, and he wasn’t sure if it was good or bad. He surely hoped Castiel was not silently rejecting them. Meanwhile, Dean could feel his emotions whirling like a storm within him; he felt so incredibly touched, witnessing the scene. It was a very unmanly thing to do, but without his control he felt a tear slip down his cheek.

 

                The exhausted angel was still watching them with curiosity, and watched as one of them shifted, grasping at whatever she could find before deciding that the finger of the hand holding her was good enough, gripping at it and making soft noises, some of them unpleasant. Though despite her supposed slight unhappiness, he heard Castiel give a soft chuckle, before promptly bursting into tears, although the smile never left his face.

They sat like that for a good long while, Sam watching them with a warm grin, and Valtiel watching for any signs that something would go wrong. Within a few minutes, Castiel was able to pass the placenta that the two shared, and it was promptly disposed of properly.

“You gonna give those two a name?” Sam suddenly asked.

“Oh…Cas, do you have anything planned?”

“I have one name…Do you want to name one, Dean? I’ll name the female, you name the male?”

This was such a strange, backwards way of doing things, but Dean agreed.

“I would like to name her Assiel…”

“Assiel…” Dean said, repeating the name, trying to see how it rolled off his tongue, before pronouncing it slowly. “Ah…see…ell, okay. Yeah, lets name her that.” Dean said, though he realized, despite his habit of nicknaming all angels he came across, he would have to call his daughter by her full name.

 

                Dean looked down at the still unnamed male, the wheels and cogs turning in his head as he tried to think of a name.

“…Damien?” Dean asked, to which Sam seemed very surprised.

“Damien?!”

“…Yeah, Damien.”

“That’s…that’s a weird name for an angel,” Sam said, looking down at the floor.

Dean looked at him quizzically before turning his attention to Castiel, who promptly agreed on the name.

“What if his gender is more female than male, as he grows?” Castiel asked, suddenly concerned.

Dean shrugged, “Um…Well, why not let ‘im pick his own name? Or maybe Damia, instead of Damien.”

“Damia is nice too…That could work.” He said, suddenly yawning, and it was then that Dean realized just how tired and exhausted Castiel looked.

“You should get some sleep…”

“I don’t want to leave them…”

“They’ll be here in the morning, baby. ‘n you can come and see them any time you want.”

“Before he goes to sleep…we need to clean this up, and I need to speak to you about some things.”

 

                It was decided, within moments, that Castiel was far too tired to clean himself the way he normally did, so Dean stood from the bed, and the angel scooted back onto the headboard. He came back with a bucket of soap and water, with a few rags. He was going to do this the only fashion way. Dean seemed to have a lot of cleaning to do, though. He was covered in damp and drying blood; it was sticking to his skin, coloring his thighs and backside varying shades of dark and bright red. He managed to sit in front of him, very gently cleaning the blood from him as Valtiel started to speak.

“There’s something you need to know about nephilim, and how they are raised and taken care of. They are actually very easy to take care of, in their first months. They require feeding and changing a few times a day; much less than a normal human child. They will cry and alert you to this. It’s not easy to tell which one they need, as they generally are very quiet after they are born. Despite what you just saw, but that’s a bit of a natural reaction to being forcefully ripped from their warm home… Feed them the way you would feed a human child; albeit, not with breasts, as the both of you lack them. They grow quicker than human children; you won’t have newborns for long. Though there is a dark side to them. As they grow, they do get moody, and they will have tantrums…and their tantrums are much more destructive. Though, this is not important right now. I will leave the two of you now. Dean, I will see you soon.”

With that, he was gone.

After Castiel was clean, Sam helped him to pull the towels from under him, and he found that a surprisingly little amount of blood had soaked through. He wiped at it with a rag, and it did not come clean all the way, but he couldn’t bear to ask Castiel to move so he could change the sheets when it was such a small amount of blood.  

He reluctantly gave up his children as Dean took them, heading to the nearby room they’d designated as a nursery. In this room were essentials; it was not the typical nursery. There were two cribs, newborn proofed, a changing table, a dresser, and a few other baby essentials. Now that they were free, Dean sent Sam for yet another bucket, and some baby-safe soap, and proceeded to clean them of all the gunk and blood still caked all over them. Once they were clean and warm, both Sam and Dean tried to figure out the prospect of newborn diapers, eventually figuring it out. He came to the conclusion that he was not going to try to dress them tonight; something just seemed dangerous about that, so instead he just swaddled them. The two of them went to their separate cribs, falling back into sleep soon after.

Once all was done, Dean surveyed them for a while before he, too, realized he was tired, and left the room. There was some overwhelming, forbidding sense of fear in him about leaving, but it was probably just about being a new father.

As they shut the door behind them, Sam let out a heavy sigh.

“Man…twins. Did _not_ see that coming.”

“Me neither…though it makes sense.”

“How’s the hand?” Sam asked, gesturing towards the wounded appendage. Though he now realized, it was in fact healed.

“Uh…fine, actually. Healed, it seems like.” Though, suddenly, his mind began spinning, thinking of several things at once.

“You okay?”

“….I’m scared, Sam. It’s so stupid, but I’m scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“…So much, I just…I’m scared somethin’s gonna happen to them, and furthermore, terrified of giving birth. I’ve been to Hell and back, and I’m sure that hurts worse, but it still _scares_ me. It’s not like I look forward to pain.”

“But you saw Cas; you saw him give birth to two of your children, consecutively, and he’s okay.”

“Yeah, he’s okay now, but that went on for _so_ long…and he nearly gave up, a few times. It scares the shit out of me, because he’s an angel. He’s supposed to be some sort of strong, otherworldly being. He’s thrown me several feet with no effort at all. But look what it reduced him to. I know his pain tolerance is lowered, but even so…I know him. I know he doesn’t give up easy. I know he fights, and he almost gave up because it hurt so bad.

The difference between Hell and this is, I had no choice. I had to lay there and take it, but it’s different. With pain like that, how am I gonna concentrate? How am I gonna have the energy to …to get that thing out of me? Despite what I’ve been through, it’s really not done shit for my pain tolerance. I can say I’ve been through worse, but that’s not going to change the pain. And I gave up, Sam…I...I just gave up; gave into their demands because I couldn’t take the pain. What am I going to do when I can’t give up? When my life, and theirs depends on not giving up? I don’t think I’m strong enough.”

 

                Sam suddenly moved in close, gripping him by the shoulders and forcing him to look at him.

“Dean, listen to me…You _can’t_ give up, okay? It’s going to hurt; I can’t tell you it won’t, but I feel that it’s in you to keep going, and if you want me there, I’ll be there to help you get through this. Do you want me there?”

“…Yeah.” Dean said, swallowing as he fought back tears, “Yeah, I want you there…”

“Then I’ll be there; no matter what. Can’t let you go through this alone. I may not have been there when you were in Hell, but I can be here for this. Now go to your boyfriend; see if he’s okay.”

“…Thanks,” Dean said sincerely, and Sam gave him a nod before he walked away.

 

                The moment Dean entered, Castiel was naked and already out like a light; a sheer contrast to the actual still lit lights. He undressed himself, not really bothering to dress into anything else before turning the light off and crawling into bed. Not moments later, Castiel instinctively moved in close, pressing the front half of him against Dean’s, and he could scarcely believe how small Castiel felt against his body. He ran a hand through his hair, stroking it lightly as a comfort mechanism to himself, before he too fell into slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name 'Assiel' is, again, not my own doing... It's from a game I'm playing. It's the name of a nephilim in the game, so, it's fitting I guess, as is Valtiel's name.  
> It is pronounced, as I said, Ah-see-ell, AND Ass-ee-ell (though incorrectly) in the same game.


	9. Mary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow can you believe it, another chapter. Fucking finally.

The days seemed to drag on, and life with children was a little more difficult than it had been before. Despite Castiel’s now lack of pregnancy, he was still moody. There would be some days where he was the best parent in the world, and others when he refused to have anything to do with them. Everyone suspected postpartum of some sort, but they figured they’d have to let it run it’s course, and do what they could until he calmed down. Sam was a big help, because Dean was finding as the days went on, he was becoming far less graceful and mobile. He did do his best to take care of these kids, though. They were surprisingly well mannered and easy to care for. Valtiel had told them, though, that they would be. For this, Dean was very grateful. All the joys of having a baby, and not nearly as much of that mess.

 

Dean was feeling fairly okay though, despite gaining more weight than he ever thought he would. He had been getting used to the aches, pains, and burns (which had subsided, as of late). He was going through life, day by day, feeling generally okay. So he should have known something was off the morning he woke up, feeling ill as hell. It started off with just nausea and general stomach discomfort, and progressed to something far less pleasant. By the middle of the day, the vomiting started, and then so did the worst diarrhea of his life, and then the laundry. That was entirely unpleasant, but it didn’t stop there… It was not a onetime thing; it continued on for the remainder of the day, until he felt there was literally nothing left in him. Anything he tried to eat was immediately forced back up.

 

With the vomiting and diarrhea came an ever worsening series of abdominal cramping, which he attributed to the previous symptoms. Though they continued even past the point where there was nothing left to even excrete; it just hurt… Eventually, he was quite done with this fiasco, and headed to bed; alone. He’d pissed Castiel off that day, telling him to leave him alone because he was feeling like Hell. Perhaps Castiel wasn’t pissed off, but he _was_ avoiding him upon Dean’s wishes. So when Dean went to bed, Castiel sat in the library, wasting his time reading, as he had nothing better to do despite being a parent now. This caught Sam’s attention, who decided to question him as he wandered into the room.

 

“Why aren’t you with Dean?”

“He chased me off…” Castiel said, glancing up from the book at Sam.

“Chased you off…?”

“He wanted me to leave him alone,” Castiel said, sighing as he closed the book and looked up at the younger brother, “I’m worried about him.”

“You know he can’t die, though.” Sam said, reassuring him.

“Regardless, I’m still worried.”

“Why don’t you go to bed, then?”

“I don’t really require sleep anymore…”

“But you slept before, right?” Sam said, sauntering over to the table, leaning onto it as he looked at him. “So, just sleep again. If you pretend to go to sleep, it’ll give you a chance to get close to him, so you’re at least able to keep an eye on him…”

“Thank you…I didn’t think of that.” Castiel said, pushing the chair away as he stood. “If you’re needed, will you come?”

“Of course,” Sam said, smiling warmly at the angel. Castiel nodded towards him, thanking him again as he headed deeper into the bunker.

 

                By the time Castiel got to the bedroom, Dean was already asleep.   He noted that he was wearing a pair of boxers and a T-shirt. Castiel did the same, dressing into something similar before sliding into bed. It didn’t take long for Dean to stir, though. Instinctively, he turned towards Castiel, clinging to him and whining softly. It was a very strange thing for Dean to do, and it worried him somewhat. Despite his worry, Castiel did end up falling asleep.

 

                He awoke later that night, at a time he couldn’t identify. It was almost humid in the room, but that wasn’t what woke him; it was Dean, prodding his shoulder. The angel grumbled softly, blearily blinking up at Dean who happened to be sitting up, one hand draped over his belly while the other prodded him.

“Cas…” he said softly, looking worried.

“Nn..what is it?” he said sleepily.

“I…I don’t know. Somethin’ ain’t right, here.” Dean said, his voice and his fingers shaking. It took him a moment, but Castiel noticed a darkness around the hunter’s trembling digits. He quickly sat up, reaching over to turn the light on next to the bed, finding that what was on Dean’s hands was blood.

“You’re bleeding…?”

“So much; god, Cas, it’s everywhere and I- I’m freakin’ out.” Dean said nervously, and Castiel didn’t bother to respond as he pulled back the covers. The hunter was sitting with his legs drawn up, thighs streaked with blood and soaking straight through his boxers and into the bed. Castiel bit down on his lip, standing from the bed to turn the light on at the switch. It looked like a murder scene… Castiel still didn’t respond to Dean though, but merely to an unpresent figure, as he called out loudly for Valtiel. It made Dean wince, hearing him so loud, and his heart thudded in his chest from fear, as he knew what calling Valtiel meant. What he’d been trying to ignore and put off since he’d woken up.

 

                It didn’t take long for Valtiel to arrive, and he seemed startled when he did.

“Oh my…” he said, looking over Dean’s form.

“Oh my? What..what’dyou mean oh my?” he asked nervously.

“That’s…that’s quite a bit of blood.”

Dean could feel another cramp or something coming on; similar to what he had earlier but worse, fingers clutching to the shirt on his belly, scared and terrified for reasons he didn’t quite understand.

“Have you felt okay today?” Valtiel asked, sitting on the bed next to him. Dean swallowed and shook his head, “Not really…”

“Cramping, vomiting, diarrhea…? Any of that?”

With this question, he nodded, and Valtiel looked towards the door. “Okay…that’s good. Castiel, do you think you could lift him?”

“Most likely…” was his response.

“What the hell is going on?” Dean said, frustrated.

“You’re bleeding a bit too much for towels. We’re taking you into the bathroom. If it’s not obvious, you’re in labor. That’s why you were sick earlier. Your body was trying to clear everything out so it doesn’t create problems for birth.”

Dean let out a broken whine, cursing under his breath before Castiel pulled him into his arms, lifting him up until he was settled safely within his grasp. It was odd, having Castiel pick him up like this. Clearly he had his strength back, though.

 

                It wasn’t long before they got to the bathroom, quickly beginning to run the water in the tub until it was a suitable temperature before Castiel let Dean down, and let him undress on his own, as the hunter protested and insisted he could do it himself. He realized now his underwear were most likely in ruins; so soaked with blood that they would probably stay damp for eternity, or at least be really stiff and sticky. He turned briefly to see that Castiel was undressing as well.

“What are you doing…?”

“Getting in with you. You’ll need me. Trust me,” he said, pulling off his clothes and setting them aside. As they both stood naked in the bathroom, Castiel helped ease the hunter into the tub before sliding in behind him, while Valtiel plugged the bath. Within moments the water was beginning to tinge a reddish pink, and even though they were in the water he knew this was going to be pretty messy.

 

                He was so grateful that this trek to the bathroom had been easy, because a few moments after getting into the tub, the pain started up again. He really focused this time; trying to compare. To see if it was similar to before, and he realized it was in a way but he had been misconstruing the symptoms. While he had focused solely on the pain in his abdomen before, he realized that it was not quite just his abdomen. It was a dull ache in general that started spreading from his lower back, shifting over his hips until coming to his abdomen and then pushing downwards. It was tight and painful. He barely registered the statements being made around him because he was too busy focusing on just what he was feeling. When the pain diminished, he felt his body loosen and he slumped heavily against the body behind him.

“You okay?” Valtiel asked, causing him to look at him in confusion, and nodding. “You were…in a sort of trance. I couldn’t get your attention.”

“Sorry…I was focusing. It hurt; I wanted to know if they were similar to what happened before.”

“Don’t focus next time. Trying to focus on them is…really bad, because it’ll just hurt that much worse later. Do they hurt bad?”

“No,” Dean said, shaking his head and feeling a bit of relief flooding through his body, “No, not that bad. I’m alright…” Yes, he could do this. This was gonna be easy…

“The hot water might alleviate some of the pain.”

“Why didn’t you do that with me when I asked if there was anything you could do?” Castiel asked sternly.

“Because you were too close to be moved,” was Valtiel’s response.

 

                There was silence for a moment; an odd sort of comfort and ease before Dean finally realized something, bolting up slightly and jostling both Castiel and the water, “Sam!” he shouted out, remembering now, “He was supposed to be here. He said he would be here; that asshole isn’t getting out of this.”

“You…really want him here?” Valtiel asked, curiously.

“Yes, I do. He’s my brother…”

Valtiel nodded, and started towards the door, “I’ll go find him. I don’t want to yell if I don’t have to…You two _should_ be okay in here.”

 

                Valtiel left, and it was quiet again. He suddenly felt Castiel shift, arm coming to the front of him and resting upon his belly. He wasn’t quite sure why, but just that motion was comforting. It wasn’t long before Sam entered, looking a little bewildered before speaking.

“How are you doing?”

Dean found that contractions came at odd times, as he began to speak, one suddenly hit him unexpectedly, a bit harder than last time and he let out in a high, cracked and broken voice, “M’fine,” he said, taking in a breath before he ultimately ended up laughing over the own stupid sound in his voice. Sam just chuckled with him, coming to sit nearby and trying to avoid looking at his brother’s junk. But it came and went, just like the other and Dean realized…this would be totally fine.

 

\---

 

                This was not totally fine. This was not totally fine and all and Dean regretted even thinking such a stupid thought, because he felt it had somehow fucked him up more. By this point the water had been changed a few times due to heat and sanitary reasons, and Dean was, more or less by his opinion, dying. Simply dying.

 

                Dean had no idea how long it had been, but it seemed like days that he’d been sitting in this tub, abdomen so tense, tight and painful he felt it may split in two. Sam had moved now, sitting near Dean’s upper half with his hand gripping his wrist, as it felt weird to grab his hand as that seemed like something someone more intimate should do. It was a weird setup, Sam grabbing his wrist and Dean gripping at Sam’s forearm when the pain came again.

 

                The sounds he made, according to Sam, rivaled those he made when attacked by Hellhounds, and probably the ones he made in Hell. After a while, the pain started to become so bad that despite the pure adrenalin rushing through his body there would be times when he would start losing consciousness. If it wasn’t Castiel waking him back up, it was Sam, calling to him to keep him in reality.

“Come on, Dean,” Sam said, as it happened again, “You gotta stay awake. You can’t go to sleep- you’re so close to being done,” Sam said, glancing to Valtiel for conformation before he nodded.

“You don’t know-,” Dean croaked out, breathing still heavy.

“Come on, you went through Hell, man. You can do this.” Sam said reassuringly.

“They kept me awake there! I _couldn’t_ pass out!” he huffed, laborious breathing before belting out a broken scream, body fighting against him again as his head went woozy. Then it happened; that sensation that Castiel had spoken of before. The pain and pressure and absolute agony in his lower half. Stimulating his nerves in all the worst, most painful ways; like he was being torn apart from the inside.

Dean wasn’t sure how loud he screamed, because his ears were ringing with dizziness and pain but he could feel the raw burn in his throat as he did so. He made a plea with very little breath towards Valtiel, signaling this was probably it, and Valtiel wasted no time scooting besides Sam, angling himself awkwardly so that his hands were in the water between Dean’s legs.

 

                Of his body’s own accord, he started bearing down, muscles squeezing and pushing at the thing so painfully lodged inside of him. It was at this point that he started fighting to keep himself conscious, harder than before; both Castiel and Sam helping as well although he could give fuckall what anyone was saying.

 

                From that point on it was a terrible whirlwind of pain and desperation, and he was glad he didn’t have neighbors or live in an apartment because the noise would’ve been enough to attract police. It sounded like a bloody murder was taking place within the confines of these thick walls. It may have not been murder, but it was indeed bloody. It came to the point that all he could concentrate on was the pain, the pressure and the absolute drive to get this damn thing out of him. There were times when he felt faint; so weak and dizzy that he might just pass on right then.

 

                The pressure turned to something else; pain…more pain. A stretching, ripping pain and he could feel it starting to emerge, and he could feel his skin ripping apart down there, even though Valtiel said it wasn’t supposed to. He was _not_ built for this. He didn’t give two shits about what any angel would say… There was the buzz of urgency in his ears, as Valtiel spoke, but he had no idea what he was saying. He had no clue what _anyone_ was saying. But whatever it was, it sounded encouraging. It drove him; pushing and straining with all he could muster until the porcelain he gripped so tightly seemed like it may crack, or maybe that was just the bones of his fingers. He could feel the screams and moans of pain pushing from his lungs and throat but he couldn’t register any actual sound. Until finally, he felt a sudden relief. Still immense amount of pressure but he felt like something had finally passed.

 

                He felt at peace but still very exhausted, in pain, and weak, and despite the fact that his work may now be over, he finally felt himself slip into absolute darkness from which he could not be awoken at this point. He dreamed of nothing; only complete blackness and an emotionless void of pure nonexistence. The only break in this was his sudden return to the living, and the blurriness in his eyes in a place he could not yet recognize. A cry sharp in his still ringing ears that silenced into a gurgling and whimpering moments after he had awoken. The fuzz faded from his eyes eventually to find himself clean and in bed, Castiel sitting in the nearby chair with a swaddled infant in his hands and watching over him with utmost intensity and concern. He could only smile warmly when Dean finally returned to consciousness, and speak with a soft voice, “She’s a girl, and she’s very healthy…and very annoyed.”

 

                Dean could only let out a soft chuckle before he faded from consciousness again. When next he awoke Castiel was gone and only Valtiel remained, watching over him with concern. The first thing he saw was the furrowed brow on his oddly attractive face, then fading to relief when he was awake.

“Dean?” he asked, voice soft and gentle, as though he was trying not to shatter him. Dean merely swallowed, looking up at trying to croak out a ‘what’, but it only came out as a squeaking gurgle.

“Shh..” Valtiel said, smoothing back the hair that stuck to his face. “You had a very traumatic experience…The birth was very hard on you,” he said, sitting back in the chair where Castiel had been previously. “I can try to explain this to you now but I’m sure it will fall on deaf ears. Know this though, you are okay, and so is your child. Castiel has left naming this child to you…Can you think of anything?”

Dean swallowed again, trying to swallow past the extreme pain in his throat before he tried speaking again. His voice incredibly hoarse before he manage to work out “M…Mary,” he mumbled. Mom…she would be proud, wouldn’t she? Dean surely hoped so.


	10. Epilogue

                Four years...It had been four years. Dean could barely believe it, but he was seeing his now…mentally and physically six year old children off to school. Dean didn’t know how he was going to make this work, and neither did Castiel, but the kids needed an education. At least somewhat of one, that was for sure.

 

                There had been no more children born, for the time being. It was still Damien, Assiel, and Mary. Damien, who had sharp yet androgynous features, one eye blue eye green. Seemingly another trait of his mosiacism. He was a hyper little shit, but very intelligent.

Assiel, who was a very serious but generally happy child, though sometimes a bit fussy. Shoulder length, slightly curled and mussed reddish brown hair hung down her face, and green sharp but adorably round eyes. A bit of a button nose and lips like her…mother. And of course, the freckles…

Then there was Mary, the blonde haired, blue eyed little girl who liked to keep to herself. Round eyes again, but lips more like, well, Dean’s, and a nose similar in bridge to Castiel’s, and end to Dean’s. She, like her sister Assiel, were dotted in more freckles than they could count. Mary may have been a bit of a fussy baby, but she had certainly calmed down and enjoyed keeping to herself in desolate rooms and reading any book she could get her hands on.

 

                Dean, himself, would have no more children. Valtiel said his body could not handle it. After Mary had been born his body had gone into shock from the very sudden loss of the angelic power within him, and the stress Mary had been under during birth had prevented her from healing him, thus causing extensive tearing that Valtiel had to heal. Dean wasn’t going to argue; he never wanted to go through that again.

 

                Dean was nervous, as he packed their lunches for their first day, and corralled them all into the car, which Dean insisted they could all fit in. Before leaving the bunker, which was indeed an odd place to raise children, he watched them all. Assiel being a bit fussy, Mary carrying a book slightly more advanced than her age, and Damien bouncing around with excitement, ready for his first new adventure.

“Assiel...” Dean asked, watching his daughter’s nervous expression. “Don’t you want to go to school?”

“I don’t wanna miss my new brother or sister.” Assiel mumbled.

Dean merely chuckled, ruffling her hair a bit before straightening it back down. “It’ll be a while. Trust me. Alright come on, seriously. You’ve all got learning to do. It’ll be totally fun, trust me.” Dean said, as he corralled them all over to his brother who was waiting by the door, smiling warmly at them.

“You gonna be okay?” Dean asked softly, closing in on Castiel’s space.

“I’m fine, Dean,” the angel insisted, annoyed but amused. It only caused Dean to smile and close in on him, giving him a swift kiss on the lips, causing a cacophony of ews from the far side of the room.

“Hey!” Dean shouted, “None of you would be here if not for this so you just be quiet,” he said, sternly, but lovingly. Now with their silence, Dean merely bent down to place a kiss upon the very noticeably swollen middle of Castiel’s torso, fingers coming to grip and rub lightly along the fabric of the grey t-shirt he was wearing. “Bye to you, too,” he said, quickly raising and giving him a quick wave before heading towards the herd he called children. “Come on, we’ll be late!”

 

                It was a nervous drive, but they got there in one piece with no trouble. He watched as the three of them piled out, bookbags, lunches and the like all on their form. He watched Valtiel hang back in the distance, as he always did, watching them to make sure they were safe. He watched as they all left, and he, the man who said he’d never cry over such chick flick moments, would be lying if he said he didn’t. Maybe family life wasn’t so bad after all…

 

 

**-End-**


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